#as requested here you go <3 ily

[claraoswalds]

THE GOES WRONG SHOW 2.05 The Cornley Drama Festival Part 2

[pboogerswbb]

IN THE MORNING

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige is high off a great game and wants to celebrate by fucking you in her jersey. Warnings: sexual content (SMUT, FILTHY FR BEWARNED), strap, slight humiliation, breeding kink, language, etc etc Wordcount: 4K A/C: this is my 1K followers surprise for y'all! YOU FINALLY GET STRAP ik you guys been begging for it (freaks). anyway thank you so much for all of you for supporting me and reading what i write, i appreciate it a lot more than you guys even know. never thought i'd have 1k followers on here so tysm, ily all <3 now go have some fun reading (ok especially to my moots ilysm, i am so fucking happy i met all of you i love each and every single one of you so bad and i always always always got your back, ty for being the best people in the world)

-

“And it’s good, another three for Bueckers.”

“She's on fire. Been hitting those all night and making it look effortless too.”

“Seventh three of the night wow.”

The entire evening Paige had been like a sniper, shots going in with even more ease than normal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her blonde ponytail, the wide shoulders nearly too big for the navy Uconn jersey, glistening with sweat as the fourth quarter comes to an end. 31 points. You couldn’t be prouder to call her your girlfriend.

The crowd stands up, you jumping up and down and clapping with them, the white jersey tucked into your bra to crop it, proudly carrying your girl’s name on your back. Another victory for Uconn, as your girlfriend allows herself a small smile after the extraordinary game she just played. You wait patiently. What feels like close to an hour of the blonde shaking hands, signing jerseys and giving out interviews she finally meets your eyes from the opposite side of the court, jogging towards you.

“Babyyy!” You gleam as she wraps her strong, sticky arms around you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Seven threes is crazy,” you praise your girlfriend.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a smug grin on her face as she pulls back and looks at you. “Missed two cause my girl look so fine.”

An involuntary blush spreads to your face as the girl’s blue eyes scam your body up and down.

“You like?” You ask with a sly smile, twirling for her. Paige lets out a low whistle, hand coming to hold your waist.

“Fuck you look hot in that jersey,” she murmurs, eyeing the way it sits on your body. You can see it in your girlfriend’s eyes - the way they were darkening in the way they always did when she needed you. 

Feeling flustered, you decide to change the topic, knowing she shouldn’t be eyefucking you in front of these cameras and fans. “So are we still going out with the team tonight? We should celebrate your big win baby.”

Paige laughs hoarsely, in that fuckboy way she does. “We ain’t going out mama, we going straight home.”

You know exactly what she means. Exactly what would happen when you get home. The idea is already making your stomach flip.

“Paige… It was a big night for you, we sh-”

“No disrespect but you need to shut up,” she sternly silences you. “You really think you’re gon’ look like this and not be folded in half in about an hour? Baby, c’mon.”

-

 “Paige stop!” You giggle, her hands holding your waist underneath the jersey, fingertips against your bare skin squeezing as she kisses your neck hungrily. Your hands are fumbling with the key, attempting to open the door to your apartment. Something you were finding extremely hard as the blonde behind you presses her hips into yours, sucking a dark red mark on your neck.

“Open the door,” Paige pants, her voice breathy and hoarse. It’s more a command than a request. Finally, you turn the key and the girl pushes you in with urgency, closing the door behind you.

Before you can say a word, the blonde is throwing you over her shoulder, making you squeal and giggle. 

“Put me down!”

“No ma’am,” she laughs, long strides heading towards the bedroom fast. With a grunt your girlfriend lowers you onto the bed, landing you on the soft mattress. Both of you are giggling as she eyes you on the bed, licking her lower lip.

“Wait here baby,” she coos, disappearing into the walk-in wardrobe. Once she returns, there’s an apparent bulge underneath the grey basketball shorts. Your imagination begins to go wild, heat growing between your thighs at the idea of what she had strapped on underneath. Paige had done it before, coming up behind you, the strap poking into your ass under her sweats to let you know what she was in the mood for. It drove you completely wild each time.

“Take your clothes off,” the blonde commands from the doorway, pulling her hoodie off and throwing it on the floor. You know what happens when Paige wants something and doesn’t get it, so you kick off the boots and denim skirt you’re wearing. Your girlfriend follows every move with watchful eyes, tutting once your fingers begin to tuck the jersey off.

“Leave that shit on,” Paige says, walking over to you on the bed. You lie on your back, watching up at her in the sheer white panties and white jersey and an unbearable ache between your thighs.

Paige’s shoulders look broad and filled out in the black sports bra she’s wearing, lower lip trapped between her teeth as her fingertips brush against the soft skin of your thigh.

“Look so fucking sexy,” she murmurs, her voice low and raspy. You needed her, badly. So you bring your hand to her core and just as you expected, feel the thick, purple strap underneath the fabric. Wrapping your fingers around the bulge, you rub it as if it’s her actual dick, just like the blonde liked to imagine.

Paige lets out a low groan, squeezing the skin on your thigh. 

“You want it?” She asks. It’s not a genuine question, she knows the answer. She can tell by the way you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together. The way your brows are furrowed in desperation.

“I do,” you whimper, biting your lip and blinking up at the girl with round eyes in the way that drove her crazy. Works every time, and this is no exception, your girlfriend letting out a breathy sigh and throwing her head back.

“Yeah? How bad ma?” She asks, hand slowly inching closer to the edge of your panties, fingertips nearly sliding underneath.

“So bad baby,” you whine, arching your back, hand still working the strap through her shorts. “Just feel,” with a whimper, you grab the blonde’s hand teasing you and slide it inside your panties.

Both of you moan, your wetness covering her fingers the second she feels you.

“Fuck, you this wet just for me?”

“All for you baby,” you whimper. “Love watching you play.”

Paige grins, rubbing gentle circles on your clit already growing puffy and sensitive from how bad your body aches for her, the idea of her strap buried deep inside you making you eager, the wait nearly unbearable.

A sigh spills from your lips as the blonde pulls her hand away, her fingers coming to your mouth and slipping past your lips making you taste yourself. Your eyes flutter shut, lips wrapping around her long digits. Paige hisses, watching closely.

“That shit ain’t fair, I need to taste you too.”

With that, Paige is pulling you to the edge of the bed by your legs, kneeling on the floor face to face with your core. With a swift movement, the blonde’s fingers hook onto your panties and pulls them down.

“Holy shit baby I ain’t even fuck you yet, why you this wet?” Paige groans at the way your cunt glistens in the light, her arms wrapping around your thighs to hold you still for her. You could feel just how wet you were, your slick spilling out of you right under your girlfriend’s gaze.

“Couldn’t help it,” you whimper, attempting to buck your hips but for nothing. You weren’t going to be touched until Paige decided so.

“Yeah couldn’t help it cause you’re such a slut huh?”

The blonde’s lips roam your inner thighs, nibbling and sucking on the skin leaving behind little red marks as a reminder of the night for later. 

“Answer me,” she demands, but it barely registers, her hot breath on your core forcing goosebumps to form all over your skin. It’s driving you wild, every inch of your body on fire for her.

Suddenly a hand reaches to your jaw and firmly grabs it, Paige tilting your face towards her.

“Answer me.”

Suddenly even more flustered, your face turns red, needing her even more. “Only for you Paige.”

“Good girl, now lie down.”

The girl lets go of your jaw and suddenly her mouth is on you, tongue everywhere in your folds, licking you up like she’s been starved for life. A loud moan escapes your mouth, hands immediately flying to the blonde, soft hair of your girlfriend. 

She’s hungry for it, the victorious game leaving her starving. Her lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly, making you gasp and yank on her hair. But she won’t quit, hands coming to spread you further apart, trying to find a way to get closer in a moment of desperation.

“Oh… fuck baby,” you whimper, legs already shaking as she eats you, tongue swirling in your folds, moving from side to side. Paige hums against you, the sound vibrating against your cunt. She has you leaking like a faucet, not wasting a single drop as she kisses her way down, circling your entrance before her tongue slides in.

“P-paige,” you cry out, overwhelmed by the pace she was moving at, not giving your body time to adjust, leaving you breathless. But she couldn’t care less about your protest, eyes rolling back as she presses closer to you, the bridge of her nose pressing against your clit.

You’re squirming, legs shaking and eyes rolling back as you tug on her hair, whimpers quickly turning more high pitched.

“Perfect pussy,” she groans, practically just to herself. Her tongue presses flat against you in long licks along your slit. Biting your lower lip you look down at the blonde girl kneeled on the floor between your legs and for a moment your eyes meet hers.

With an arrogant smirk Paige brings her tongue flat onto your clit and shakes her head back and forth skillfully, knowing it drives you crazy each time. The glimmer in her eye doesn’t help, making your back arch and head tilt back against the mattress.

“Gonna fuck this pussy,” the girl murmurs against you, the tip of her tongue speeding up on your clit, flicking it back and forth. She’s determined to make you cum. And when Paige was determined, there was nothing that could stop her.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes and your entire body’s writhing under Paige’s mercy. She’s desperately eating you up, taking turns working you with her tongue and mouth, sucking and licking everywhere. It’s overwhelming, too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as her tongue circles your clit.

“You gonna cum ma?”

“Yes, yes, fuck baby.”

Your hands are tugging on her hair hard, but the blonde doesn’t mind. The moans spilling from her mouth reveal quite the opposite. The familiar pit somewhere deep in your gut begins to burn, forcing your back to arch off the bed. The jersey on your body hikes up, Paige’s hand scratching on your lower stomach as she keeps working tirelessly, like the strain in her jaw wasn’t there.

“Paige I’m go-”

“Cum for me mama.”

And that’s enough, the coil in your stomach snapping the moment her words register in your hazy mind. The heat from your core spreads all over your body, waves of pleasure washing over you. The room is filled with the sounds of your high pitched moans, and the satisfied hums of the blonde between your legs sucking on your clit. Sweat drips down the back of her neck but it doesn’t matter. She’s not even close to done. 

Paige stands up from the floor, leaving you trembling before her, still getting over your orgasm.

“Cmere,” Paige says, licking her lips hungrily and sliding her hand into her shorts to stroke the strap as if an extension of herself. Body still recovering, you do as you’re told knowing the blonde didn’t like waiting. Kneeling on the bed, your eyes flicker from the bulge under the fabric to her blue eyes looking down at you. They’re heavy and dark, her jaw prominent and chest heaving with need.

“Take em off,” she demands, your hands wasting no time finding the band of her shorts and pulling them to her ankles, revealing the purple strap underneath. Paige’s hands wrap around it and stroke, tapping the tip all over your face. Without much thought your mouth parts, eyes locked onto your girlfriend’s. 

“Push your tongue out, be a good girl,” Paige groans, brows in a deep frown as she tries to catch her breath but it seems impossible with the way your big eyes stare up at her with your mouth open. She’s dizzy with want.

The moment your tongue slips out of your mouth, Paige is slapping the tip on it and moaning as if she could feel it herself - your warm mouth wrapping around her cock.

“That’s it, fuck ma,” Paige hisses, watching your tongue circling the length of the strap. “Get it wet for me.”

Bopping your head forward carefully, you take more of the strap into your mouth, saliva quickly building up and dripping down the corners of your mouth. 

“Look so pretty baby,” the blonde coos, gathering your hair into her fist and holding it back for you. “You like sucking my cock?”

With a slight smile you nod with the strap still filling your mouth. The sight is enough to make your girlfriend moan, and her grip in your hair tightens as she forces the strap down your throat, making every inch disappear into your mouth. 

“Mmph,” you whine, tears quickly welling up in your eyes. The sound of you gagging mingle with Paige’s low grunts, your nails digging into her muscular thighs. Paige can’t look away, you look too pretty to look away. Finally pulling on your hair, she allows you a second to gasp for air before returning and guiding your mouth on her cock, never breaking eye contact until your eyes roll back. Surely the strap was wet enough already, spit spilling from your mouth all over its length. But Paige is enjoying this too much to stop.

“You wanna get that pussy fucked huh?” The blonde grunts, pulling your head back with a string of saliva dripping down onto your chest.

“Please,” you whimper, your cunt throbbing, begging to feel the plastic inside you.

“Think you deserve it? Think you deserve my cock?”

“Baby need it,” you cry out, letting Paige rub the soaked tip against your lips and face, messing up your makeup. She always thought this was the best you looked, desperate, eyes red and glossy, mascara flaking underneath your eyes and begging for her. She couldn’t resist any longer.

“Turn around,” she murmurs and you do as she says, facing the other way on your hands and knees.

“Should I take the jersey off?” 

“Keep that shit on ma,” Paige says sternly, hissing as she rubs the tip of the purple strap against your soaked folds. Already whimpering, you grip the soft sheets tightly, feeling the blonde’s hands caressing your ass and waist, lifting the jersey just enough to see your lower back. “Fuuuckkk baby,” she praises, watching as the strap begins to glisten just from the sheer wetness spilling out of you. “She crying for me huh?”

“Yes,” is all you can muster to say, stomach flipping as the tip teases your entrance, everything you wanted so close yet so far. Your slick is already dripping on the plastic, Paige letting out a shaky moan behind you at the sight. 

“Shit, this pussy loves me,” she groans, gripping your hips and at last sliding the length inside you. A loud gasp escapes your body, the stretch so intense and powerful. 

“Oh shiiiit,” Paige hisses, watching the way your cunt stretches around the strap, swallowing her up. The trembling of your body is immediate, the blonde leaning down and kissing over your shoulders and neck. “Feel good mama?”

“Y-yeah baby,” you’re still breathless, body slowly adjusting to the size. 

“You tryna get fucked?”

“Mhm,” you hum, needy for your girlfriend to begin moving behind you. But she remains still.

Her big hand grips your ass harshly, slapping the skin leaving you with a slight burn. “Work for it mama, show me how bad you want it.”

You immediately know what she wants, craving to have you whimpering and pleading before she’ll give you what you crave. Paige always had to tease you just a little further than you could handle.

So you begin to move forward and back again, slowly pressing your ass against her. The strap slips in and out easily, but the size keeps you overwhelmed, slick dripping onto the sheets as you throw it back for your girlfriend, arching your back just right.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, legs already feeling weak, hands balled into fists as your girlfriend’s hand slaps your ass again, the sound echoing around the room.

“Look at that,” she praises, letting out a shaky low moan as the vibrator against her clit buzzes. But you can barely hear, mind spinning and not a single coherent thought in your head anymore. “Such a fuckin’ slut.”

The nickname makes you whine, craning your neck to see the blonde behind you, eyes locked onto where your body is swallowing her strap up. Her mouth is wide open and cheeks burning red, she wants it just as bad as you do.

Her blue eyes travel up your spine to the jersey, grabbing a handful of your hair to hold up. To allow her to admire the way the jersey fits your body. Her name, her number on you as she fucks you. It’s enough to get her bewildered.

Meeting your eyes the blonde smirks, chest heaving with need. “You like that? When I call you that?”

You nod, maintaining eye contact as you grind your hips back into her.

Paige shakes her head in disbelief, hissing again as the vibrator angles against her just right. 

“Course you do, fuckin’ slut.”

Your upper body crashes against the bed, too tired to hold it up, ass remaining in the air.

“Paigeee,” you whine, begging for her to take control, legs too shaky to continue.

“What’s wrong mama?”

It’s almost sadistic, her tone. She knows exactly what’s wrong. But it wasn’t enough, Paige had to hear you say it, getting off on humiliating you just a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You whine again in frustration, wiggling your ass in the air. But Paige remains stern.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, making the blonde smirk and lick her lower lip.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

You nod in desperation, letting her pull your face up from the sheets by your hair, other hand coming to hold your hip.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” she leans down and groans into your ear. “Gon’ fuck you until you cry.”

With that, her hips slam into you, the intrusion so intense you can’t help the way your eyes roll back. You gasp, Paige letting go of your hair and standing back up behind you, both hands on gripping your waist, fucking her hips into you at such a pace it’s making you see stars.

“Ohhh shit,” the blonde grunts, watching the way your ass jiggles as her hips slam against you. The sound of skin clapping and the squelching of the strap deep inside you fills the room, only thing cutting through are your joint moans.

“Baby fuck-” you cry out, part of you wanting to push her away from how crushing her thrusts are, the strap buried deep inside your soaked pussy.

“Look at you takin it, fuck baby,” Paige groans, right hand smoothing over her last name on the jersey. Over the number she wears each game.  “Takin’ my dick while wearing my name. So fucking good f’me.”

Your cunt is throbbing, squeezing the strap making it hard to think clearly. You wanted more, wanted less, you weren’t sure. But you could feel your eyes growing wet against the sheets. Paige’s hand travels all the way up to your hair, grabbing it harshly and shoving your face into the mattress.

“You take it like a slut huh?” 

You moan, feeling your slick dripping down your thighs, surely covering Paige’s legs now as well.

“Your slut baby,” you whimper, upper body pressed snug against the soft cotton as the blonde pounds her strap into you.

“Aww fuck- good girl,” Paige gasps, the vibrations having her legs shaking. With a swift movement, the blonde manhandles you onto your back, placing your legs onto her shoulders, sliding the purple strap back inside you.

“Need to see your face,” she groans, eyelids so heavy they’re barely open as she keeps fucking you. “Need to see you cum on my cock.”

“Baby, so big,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the blonde kneels on the bed and leans forward, folding you over with ease.

“Take it so well tho,” Paige coos, bringing her face to yours, hand wrapping around your neck as she keeps slamming her hips into you. That athlete’s stamina could have her going like this for an hour. “Gonna cum inside this pussy.”

Her words leave you a moaning mess, your hands scratching at her shoulders leaving red marks behind. “Fuck,” you whimper, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fucking you so hard you’re gon’ have my kids.”

The squelching becomes louder, wetness dripping out of you as Paige’s strap hits deeper than before, making you gasp and scratch her soft skin harder.

“Aw- fuc- shit, ma that’s it. So deep in your guts,” she rambles, eyes beginning to roll back, trying to hold back on her orgasm. She brings her fingers between your legs, thumb beginning to rub lazy circles on your clit as the strap slips in and out of you, fucking into you at a rapid pace.

“P-Paige feel so good,” you cry out, gushing around the plastic desperately. Paige’s head lulls back and forth, fighting her orgasm. 

“Mama I need to cum inside you, needa fill you with my cum,” the blonde whimpers, voice growing more high pitched as she nears the edge, fucking her hips into you with such force you think you might black out. The familiar burn ignites at her words, pussy throbbing around the plastic, muscles beginning to coil in your stomach.

“Shi- baby I need you to cum on my cock,” she gasps, eyes squeezing shut, grip around your neck tightening enough to make you lightheaded.

“Paige I-” You cry out, Paige’s thumb pressing into your clit and the tip of the strap hitting the perfect spot with each stroke. 

“C’mon ma, lemme fill you up,” she whimpers desperately, legs shaking but never easing the pace. You can’t hold it anymore, letting go and allowing the fire to take over your body.

“Paige I’mma cum,” you gasp, the blonde letting out a moan of relief.

“Gonna cum inside you,” Paige grunts into your neck, as you lie underneath, helpless. Your back begins to arch off the bed, the blonde squeezing the sides of your neck and pinning you down, hips slamming into you. “Gonna fill this pussy aw- up- fuck.”

With that you’re both gasping, rolling over the edge as your climax takes over, pussy squeezing the strap tightly and gushing around it, all over the sheets and Paige on top of you.

“Oh shit-” Paige gasps, breath hot in your ear as she finishes, your mind blank as the ecstasy takes over your body, leaving you trembling underneath the girl, eyes shut tight.

“Holy shit,” the blonde murmurs, trying to catch her breath. Your chest is heaving and your face flushed. As your eyes flutter open, they’re met with the blue of Paige’s irises. She scooches both of you up the bed, crashing on top of you, the plastic still inside you, almost soothing. You wince as she pulls it out carefully, leaving you with an uncomfortable emptiness.

“You’re so great baby,” Paige sighs, resting her head in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms and legs around your girlfriend, pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “My number one girl.”

“You really like this jersey huh?” You chuckle as her pink lips kiss your collarbone, neck, jawline and finally your lips.

“Let’s everyone know you mine,” she coos, nuzzling her nose into you and rubbing the skin on your midriff where the fabric has hiked up.

“All yours baby,” you hum, body worn and tired but heart fluttering with love.

“All mine ma.”

-

taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @bueckersfive @d3arapril @bueckersbitch @rosemariiaa @makethemhoesmad @xxloveralways14 @omg-imtumbling @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @thelightknight21 @vamptizm @ohmybueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @avvwritesstufff @authentic-girl03

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙20 weeks you say… | LN4˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x pregnant!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: sexual references but not major, mainly fluff with some joking/play fighting yk the vibes

summary: in which your pregnancy announcement is met with an unexpected response

a/n: chose lando coz im obsessed with him atm😭😭😭 also i think this plot suits him better lol. it's pretty short but it fits the plot best imo!

request!!!: Can I request reader and driver, maybe Carlos or lando, announce her pregnancy only for fans to put together that the baby is a result of a race win

my masterlist

fc: various blonde girls from pinterest

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and others

yourusername we've been keeping a secret… 20 weeks and counting 🕊️

view all comments

user1 OH MY GOD

yourmother im crying again y/n!

yourusername you better stop by the time baby's here!

lilyzneimer so happy for you guys 🥹

yourusername tysm angel <3

iamrebeccad amazing news ❤️

liked by yourusername

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations ❤️

liked by yourusername

francisca.cgomes ahhh cant wait for baby to be born!

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹

user2 all the wags comments!! so cute

carlossainz55 are you sure?

yourusername 😂😂😂 yes lando is going to be a father for the 500th time

user3 hahahaha poor lando

charles_leclerc wow sending love to you both! congratulations!

liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri congratulations to my favourite couple!

yourusername thanks osc 😊

danielricciardo contrats 🎉

liked by yourusername

logansargeant wow congratulations guys

liked by yourusername

user4 20 weeks you say... 🧐

landonorris posted a story

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, and others

user5 ahh she's so gorgeous

user6 i can't believe u guys are gonna have a baby omg 😭

user7 wowwww

user8 cant wait for baby norris 🥹

lilyzneimer you better be looking after her

landonorris i am!!!

lilyzneimer good.... im watching

landonorris scary

yourmother look after my baby!

landonorris i am!!! why does no one believe me

yourmother she's carrying precious cargo

landonorris oh dont i know it 😭

twitter ->

messages ->

instagram ->

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and others

landonorris anyway 🤫

view all comments

user16 r u telling us to shut up lando 🥺🥺

landonorris yes actually y/n is mad at u guys!

user17 NOOOOOOOOOOOO

user18 smh coz u guys r always running ur mouth

user19 what happened? what did u guys do this time 🤔

user20 ...worked out when their baby was conceived...

user21 HAHAHAHAHHA

user22 too far i fear

carlossainz55 me personally, i think it's funny

landonorris well...

yourusername shut up both of you

carlossainz55 sorry y/n

oscarpiastri forgive & forget 😌

user23 yup i agree with oscar! forgive us y/n

yourusername hmmm.... NO!

user24 HAHAHAHA

user25 hahahah poor y/n!

user26 it was a special race win tbf, we'd all have done the same thing y/n <3

liked by landonorris, yourusername

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by lilyzneimer, landonorris, and others

yourusername lil update. we r so ready for baby now

view all comments

user27 omg she's so much bigger now

user28 what's the gender??

user29 they havent told us

user30 ur glowing y/n

liked by yourusername

user31 she liked this.. maybe she is forgiving us :)

lilyzneimer miss you in the garage babe

yourusername miss you so much! please come visit soon lol

lilyzneimer omg i will🥹🥹

mclaren we cant wait to meet little norris!

liked by yourusername, landonorris

iamrebeccad gorgeous girl

yourusername ily

user32 carlando & landoscar lives on in their wags friendships tbh

oscarpiastri lando is miserable without u, hurry up & have the baby & get back to races

yourusername what do u think im trying to do oscar? 🤨

oscarpiastri yea true. my bad

landonorris i dont like ur tone

oscarpiastri im so sorry

landonorris better

user33 LOL😭😭

time skip 🧡

landonorris posted a story

liked by yoursister, lilyzneimer, and others

yoursister is everything ok?

landonorris i'll keep you updated, dont worry

yoursister you better

user34 she's sooo cute

user35 i cant wait for her to have the baby ahh

user36 giggling & kicking her feet she's jus a girl fr

lilyzneimer keep me updated please

landonorris 😂 will add you to the baby update group chat

lilyzneimer please do omg

carlossainz55 dont freak out

landonorris easy for you to say

landonorris

liked by yourmother, oscarpiastri, and others

landonorris first month with our daughter x

view all comments

user37 OMG FINALLY NEWS

user38 a girl omg

user39 lando a girl dad!!!

user40 awwww a beautiful daughter from winning in miami

landonorris DONT BRING THIS UP AGAIN

user40 oop-my bad

user41 HAHAHAHA

user42 they deffo nickname her miami

oscarpiastri congratulations 🥂

landonorris 🧡

lilyzneimer 🥹🥹🥹🥹 so gorgeous

liked by landonorris

carlossainz55 congratulations both of you!

landonorris thanks for all ur help 🫡

carlossainz55 it's nothing :)

yourusername god i love you 🥹

landonorris i love YOU

yourusername posted a story

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

user43 HAHAHAHA

user44 ur not mad at us 🥳🥳🎉🎉🎉

user55 this is sooo funny & cute omg i love her

yoursister 😭😭stop it

yourusername hahahaha it is kind of funny tho

lilyzneimer ignoring the caption, u guys are so cute

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

landonorris best gift i could ever ask for 😌 i love you

THE END 🧡

[starkwlkr]

Can I request some hung with old man Logan? Something domestic or soemthing like reader baking for him. I love reading fics of Logan and reader being an old married couple

just the two of us | old man logan

an: anon ily for this request old man Logan needs more love <3 credit to pinterest for the gif btw this doesn’t follow the logan storyline so i added laura hope that’s ok!! sorry if there’s an spelling mistakes!

reader and logan live in a nice little cozy home because i said so 😍

“Taste.” You held the wooden spoon up to your husband’s mouth. Logan sighed, he knew you weren’t going to let him walk away without tasting the brownie batter so he licked the spoon.

For a while you had been craving brownies. While Logan was out working, you and Laura drove to the city to pick up the ingredients to make brownies. It was a fun small girls trip until it was time to come back home. Laura had helped you mix everything together until she got tired, she then decided to go up to her room to watch cartoons. You continued working on the brownies by yourself, that’s when Logan had arrived from work and now here you were giving him a taste test.

“So?” You waited for an answer.

“Bub, you are the best baker in this whole town, city, state, planet.” Logan was going to dip his finger in the batter until you slapped it away.

“No! You’re going to wait like the rest of us, but I did tell Laura she could have the first brownie so just wait.” You told him.

Logan groaned and walked to the kitchen sink and washed his hands. “How was your day?”

Logan always asked about you day. It didn’t matter if you stayed home and read a book or did some gardening, he wanted to know.

“Good. Laura and I read a new book, we went to buy ingredients to make brownies and now my old man is home so I’d say it’s been a pretty good day.” You started to pour the brownie batter into a pan.

He didn’t mind you calling him old man, in fact, he loved it. Yeah, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but you still loved him. You did admit to him many times that the grey hair was a turn on for you, which made him laugh.

Before you could react, Logan quickly dipped his finger in the batter and licked it clean.

“James! Don’t you dare do it again!” You scolded him. “These are for Laura too.”

“Come on, Laura’s not going to know that I ate some batter,” Logan leaned on the counter next to you. “I’ve been thinking. .”

“Oh no, that’s concerning.” You teased, finishing up with the brownies and putting them in the oven. You turned to face him then wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you.

Logan chuckled at your response. “I’ve been thinking about taking you and Laura to some place nice. We can do that family shit you always talk about.”

You laugh at his choice of words. “Family shit, yeah that’s what I said.”

“Tomorrow then, I’ll drive us to the nicest place you’ve ever seen, get some ice cream, watch a movie, whatever you want.” Logan leaned in closer, you doing the same.

Before your lips could touch, Laura interrupted you asking about the brownies.

“Not yet, my love, I just put them in. I’ll call you when they’re done,” You pulled away making Logan groan. Laura nodded then ran up to her room. You noticed the frown on his face so you quickly gave him his after work kiss. “Don’t be so sad, old man, the neighbor’s kid wants to have a sleepover with Laura this weekend so it’ll just be the two of us.” Logan definitely liked the sound of that.

Half an hour later, the brownies were ready. Laura took several with her to her room while you and Logan took a plate outside to the patio where your porch swing was. It was a beautiful evening, it wasn’t too hot or too cold, and now you were ending the night beside your husband eating some homemade brownies.

“I think Laura is going to ask you for a dog.” You mention, scooting closer to Logan and laying your head on his chest. You held a brownie up to him so he could take a bite.

“No, we are not getting a dog.” He said.

“It would be nice, you know . . .” You bit the brownie after Logan.

“Is this why you made brownies? You want me to get you and Laura a dog?” He looked down at you.

“No, but can you?”

He sighed defeatedly. “I’ll think about it.”

[aeribbon]

you ready ? | carlos sainz

summary; when one time in ibiza, you made a deal with a random spanish man that if if in 5 years you weren't dating someone you would marry him... it's been 5 years !

pairing; carlos sainz x diplomat!reader

warnings; swearing ?? english isn't my first language !

an; also i'm taking requests pleaseeeeee give me scenarios i would gladly make them

fc; chiara king

navigation / masterlist

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yourusername - 2016

liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, and 235 others !

yourusername me after doing handstands in the pool to impress him but see ya in 5 years ig

view all comments

carlossainz55 I hope so !

yourbestfriend that is a crazy bet but i'm here for it

yourfriend1 damn you're stunning

yourfriend2 okay period girl that tan ate

yourfriend3 yummy

username mmhm why is carlos liking and commenting ??

▮ username literally ahaha no way the f1 gossip pages still haven't found this

(yn's pov)

5 years later

yourusername - 2021

liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend1, carlossains55, and 789 others !

yourusername single life means gno everyday !!!

view all comments

yourbestfriend thank god cause i couldn't stand that ugly rat

▮ yourfriend1 and he had the audacity to cheat !

▮ yourusername gotta get that rebound tonight

yourbestfriend i need you to stop traveling, i can assume you pookie no need to work and leave me every monday

▮ yourusername ily babe but i'm not gonna fuck up 10 years of studies for you <3

▮ yourbestfriend well i tried, ...

▮ yourbestfriend GIRL HOLD ON HOLD TF UP CHECK YOUR MESSAGES

y/n's pov

yourusername - 2021

liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend2, carlossainz55 and 1290 others !

yourusername i love my job

view all comments

carlossainz55 so... it's been 5 years ! you still up ?

▮ yourusername omg carlos hi

▮ carlossainz55 yeah hi y/n (liked by author)

▮ maxverstappen1 ☕️

▮ username WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF

yourfriend2 when i'll buy france you'll be my prime minister and minister of international relationships

▮ yourusername how much will you pay me ?

yourbestfriend can i pls come with you next time

▮ yourusername no youre gonna distract me and yk i can't say no to you

▮ yourbestfriend i promise we'll go out only the last day !

▮ yourusername ok we might have a deal

yourfriend1 stunning

username let me spell gorjus right !

yourfriendwhichisamale loveeee never knew what i was missing

▮ yourusername bro if you don't shut up you're gonna make me fumble

▮ landonorris ouh 👀

▮ carlossainz55 cabron leave

carlos' pov

carlossainz55 - 2024

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, alex_albon and 3m others !

carlossainz55 fell in love with her way before that deal trust me ! can't believe i actually get to call you MY wife after 3 years of relationship and the best years of my life, i love you y/n more than you could ever imagine ❤️

view all comments

yourbestfriend WELP I LOVE YOU GUYS

yourusername i love you too carlos and i think you've got an idea of how much i love you

maxverstappen1 congrats guys, i'm so proud of you guys and also for being part of that deal 😆❤️

▮ carlossainz55 shush that's a secret

▮ yourusername YOU WERE INVOLVED ?

landonorris my parents awww ily

username carlosy/n nation we are so alive omg

username i'm such a proud mom omg i love them so much

rúbendias congrats mate (like by author)

username their history is so wattpad coded please it's too cute for me

oscarpiastri can you please adopt me now ?

▮ charles_leclerc WHAT ??? NO WTF

▮ yourusername ofc my cutie osc anything for you my love

▮ carlossainz55 oh

▮ landonorris they're already my parents move and i'm y/n's favorite

▮ oscarpiastri i'm gonna hold your hand when i'll say this

▮ yourusername yeah sorry norris

yourusername - lake como

liked by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 12k others !

yourusername made the deal for the plot but actually found my soulmate on the way, i love you carlos ! you're the love of my life ❤️

view all comments

yourbestfriend the way this story ended is my roman empire

username she's beautiful

username i knew this wedding wouldn't disappoint after seeing y/n's aesthetic

▮ username she's literally a diplomat and he's literally an f1 driver i was excepting something as big as they served us !

▮ username fr love them for this !!!!! this is so iconic imagine having your wedding in lake como

lilymunihe my baby i'm so happy for you awwww

▮ yourusername ily lily

carmenmmundt wedding of the year !! thank you for inviting george and i it was an incredible experience !

▮ yourusername awww thank you for being here carmen ily

username oh to be marrying the y/n

username idk if i want to be carlos or y/n

▮ username trust me i would kill to marry y/n

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i tried ahaha pls i would love to have your feed back or any ideas for an smau !!

[mariasont]

hi bby, i also have another idea! <3

it’s a song inspired fic with spencer or hotch and bimbo!reader and how they are in the office when they first get together and maybe some moments before they do!!

the song i was thinking of is birds of a feather by billie eilish and you can choose either hotch or spence bcuz i can’t decide, lol

anyway ily and i’m so glad you’re doing better and it’s so lovely to see you here again!! <33

BIRDS OF A FEATHER - S.R

a/n: i just need you to know you are literally the backbone of my fics i swear!!! ur requests are always my favorite <3 but anyway ilysm and i'm so happy to be and so happy to fufill your request, i hope you like it!! :)

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: clingy!reader, dramatic gf calm bf best duo, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, idiots in love

wc: 1k

You'd lost count of how many times you'd checked the clock. Five days without Spencer felt like an eternity. You weren't sure how people survived long-distance relationships. 

You’d tried everything to distract yourself. A true crime documentary had seemed like a good idea—something to make you feel like Spencer was still close, in that nerdy, FBI way of his—but it turned out to be too scary (and okay, a little boring). You’d spent most of it hiding behind a pillow, silently debating whether the narrator’s voice was creepy or just British.

All you could do was scroll on your phone and pout at the clock, wondering if maybe--just maybe--you'd somehow willed time to speed up since the last time you looked. Spoiler: you hadn't.

By the time you heard the jingle of keys outside the door, you were practically vibrating with excitement. You shot off the couch so fast you nearly tripped on the blanket you'd be wrapped in all night. 

The lock clicked, and there he was—Spencer, with tired eyes and messy hair, his satchel hanging limply off one shoulder like it weighed more than he did. He looked exhausted but perfect, the way only Spencer could.

"Spencie!" you squealed, launching yourself at him before he could even get through the doorway.

"Hi," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest. He smelled faintly of coffee and something antiseptic, but underneath it all was that comforting, familiar scent that was just him. "I missed you, too."

You buried your face in his chest for a moment, breathing him in like you could bottle the feeling and save it for later. Then, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, you gripped his jacket tightly. “You better have. I’ve been losing my mind waiting for you.”

Spencer’s lips twitched into a tired smile. “Losing your mind? Sounds serious. Should I be worried?”

"Definitely," you said, nodding earnestly. "I've been so bored, Spence. I started talking to myself--like, full on conversations. And I'm not as smart as you, so they weren't even good conversations."

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles against your hip. “I’m sure they were better than you think.”

You stepped back and began tugging his jacket off, shooing him toward the couch. He followed without a word of protest, letting you fuss over him.

“You look so tired, baby,” you said, plucking his satchel off the floor and setting it aside. “Did you eat? You better have. I should’ve made something, but I didn’t know when you’d get here, and I got distracted, and—”

Spencer's hand caught yours, making your mouth snap shut. His fingers were warm, and the way they curled around yours was enough to make your brain go fuzzy for a second. 

"I'm fine. Really."

“You don’t look fine,” you said, wrinkling your nose at him. “You look all…” You waved vaguely at his face. “Work-y.”

“Work-y,” he echoed, his lips twitching into a small, tired smile.

“Exactly,” you said, nodding as you plopped down beside him and immediately curled into his side. Your arms looped around him, holding him tightly, as though he might vanish if you let go.

Spencer let out a soft sigh, leaning into your touch. 

“You’re very clingy tonight,” he teased, though the way his arm came up to pull you closer told you he didn’t mind.

“Obviously,” you replied, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in forever. I missed your face. And your hair. And your nerdy little brain. Especially your nerdy little brain.”

He laughed quietly. “My brain missed you, too.”

“Good,” you said, tilting your head to press a kiss to his jaw. “Because I’m not letting you go anywhere for at least... three days. Maybe four. You’ll just have to solve crimes from here.”

Spencer hummed, his fingers continuing their gentle movement. “I’m not sure the FBI would agree to that.”

“Then they’ll have to fight me for you,” you said with a dramatic huff, crossing your arms. “Honestly, I could probably take Hotch in a fight. He doesn’t look like he’s had a good night’s sleep since, like, 1999. One shove, and he’s done for.”

Spencer laughed, his chest shaking against yours. “You’d shove Hotch? I think that’s a violation of multiple workplace policies.”

You grinned, tilting your head to look up at him. “It’d be worth it. You’re way more important than some dumb policies.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” you said, your grin widening as you leaned forward to nudge his nose with yours. “Now, scoot over. I’m not comfy enough.”

Before he could ask what you meant, you were already moving, shifting to climb into his lap with zero hesitation. Spencer blinked in surprise, but his hands instinctively came up to steady you, one resting on your waist while the other settled on your thigh.

“You could’ve warned me,” he murmured, though his lips quirked into a small smile as you tucked yourself against him like a human blanket.

“Where’s the fun in that?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your forehead against his. “Besides, I missed you too much to sit all the way over there.”

Spencer let out a soft, breathy laugh, his nose brushing yours as he adjusted to your weight. ���You don’t think this is a little excessive?”

“Excessive? No. Necessary? Yes.” You kissed the tip of his nose, grinning when his cheeks flushed a faint pink. “You’re my boyfriend, Spencie. This is part of the job description.”

He shook his head, but the way his arms tightened around you gave him away. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” you said smugly, nuzzling closer to him.

“I do,” he admitted. His hand moved to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair. “I love you more than I can put into words.”

Spencer let out a long breath, his head resting back against the couch as his hands stayed comfortably on your waist. 

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?” you teased, though you didn’t move an inch from where you were nestled against him.

“Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low and a little gravelly.

“Good,” you whispered, your cheek pressed to his. “That means you’re staying right here.”

He didn’t answer, but the way his arms tightened around you was more than enough.

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join my taglist here!

[yunjardi]

STRICTLY BUSINESS [18+]

[JAKE SIM DRABBLE]

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/pairing: boss!jake x fem!assistant/

/content warnings: smut [18+ mdni], semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral [m receiving], dirty talk, spanking, making out/kissing, nail marks, pls lmk if i missed anything!!!/

/wc: 1,296

/author's note: i know i said this would be more of a drabble, but i got a little carried away lol. i'm super glad to be back after over a year <3 thank you to those who have been here and also those who are just stopping by :) ily <3

p.s. this is not proofread at all oops

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you found yourself wondering how you managed to get yourself into this position.

that said 'position' being on your knees between jake's legs as he sat back in his office chair.

you didn't think that this was something that actually happened in real life, fucking your boss that is. it seemed so unreal until a few short months ago when you were hired to be jake's personal assistant- something that would ultimately lead to you keeping a dirty little secret.

jake is smooth talker, so you assumed that he spoke in a flirty manner to everyone. that was until the two of you began building a closer relationship which was natural due to the nature of your job, but you didn't think that it would go this far, you didn't think that you two would end up being this close.

flirting turned into dates (that jake referred to as simply 'treating my assistant for being so great at her job'), dates turned into late nights together, late nights together turned into sleepovers, and those sleepovers soon became a regular occurrence. i mean, waking up and already being by your boss's side first thing in the morning makes your job a whole lot easier, right?

right.

whatever way you tried to dance around it doesn't (and won't) change the fact that you are, indeed, banging your boss.

"just like that," jake breathed out as you let his tip hit the back of your throat, "such a good girl."

a constant string of praises, moans, and curses fell from jake's pretty lips as you mercilessly teased him with your tongue, unable to stop yourself from getting wet in the process.

jake smirked and raised an eyebrow as he noticed one of your hands gently slipping into your panties. he watched as you pleased yourself whilst simultaneously pleasing him which was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"is my princess getting riled up?" jake cooed as he looked down at you, being sure to focus on the way you touched yourself. you couldn't help but look away as your face began to heat up at the sudden confrontation, but jake was quick to tilt your head up so that you had no choice but to look him in his pretty eyes.

"so cute," jake chuckled sexily as he brushed your hair away from your face, "now, be a good girl and sit on my desk, yeah?" naturally, you followed his orders (mostly out of habit at this point) and sat yourself up on his desk, ready to fulfill his every request.

he looked gorgeous standing before you, his hair slightly messy from having run his hands through it and his shirt halfway unbuttoned. it was impossible for anyone in their right mind to not be attracted to him in some way, shape, or form.

jake gently leaned in, giving you a tender kiss on the lips before moving down to you neck. his hands wandered from your lower back down to your thighs as he continued to kiss all over you, causing your breath to hitch. he made sure to hike up your already short skirt as the gap between your bodies became slimmer and slimmer.

you instinctively brought your hands up to further unbutton his shirt, wanting to see the entirety of his toned body. jake followed suit, beginning to slide the thin strap of your top down your shoulder before fully discarding your shirt somewhere in his office, leaving you in the lacy bra jake had gotten you as a gift for 'being such a great assistant.'

it drove him crazy to see you wearing the pretty bra he bought just for you, and it made him crave you even more desperately.

he couldn't resist you any longer.

he pulled you into a passionate kiss before teasing your entrance with his tip, causing a little gasp to get caught in your throat at the sudden rush. once again, he tilted your face upward, making sure to meet your gaze before slowly inching his throbbing tip into you. you gripped tightly onto his forearm as his cock went deeper and deeper inside you, your walls squeezing every inch of his length.

"jake-" you moaned out as you loosened your grip on his forearms, your hands now holding onto his as he slowly began to move his hips. your eyes rolled back as you let a string of moans leave your lips, his thick tip hitting your sweet spot with every single one of his strokes.

"your cunt is so tiny and small, yet you take me so well," jake smirked as he brought one of his hands down to your clit, beginning to gently rub circles around it as you struggled to keep your legs apart.

your moans became increasingly desperate as jake began to pick up his pace, his hands now gripping at your thighs as he pounded your sweet spot. you could only manage to let out little whines and begs for him to not stop as you felt yourself leaning closer and closer to your climax.

jake promptly picked you up from his desk and sat you down on his lap, guiding his length back inside you as to not waste any precious time that he could be spending fucking you.

the two of you moaned in sync as you sunk back down onto his cock, his tip immediately poking at your spot once again.

after he fully bottomed out, you wasted no time grinding your hips against his, still desperate to reach your high.

jake let his head fall back in pleasure as he left harsh spanks on your ass and thighs. "my good girl," jake moaned deeply into your ear as he left kisses on your neck, "you're all mine, yeah?" you barely managed to nod your head through the extreme pleasure. "mhm, all yours," you moaned breathlessly as he fucked his cock into you from underneath you.

a familiar burning sensation bubbled in your core as jake took control again, being rougher with you than he was before. all you could do was moan uncontrollably about how good he felt being this deep inside you.

"feels good, yeah?" jake teased as you snaked your hands around his shoulders, leaving your nail marks on his skin, "you haven't managed to let go of me since i put my dick inside you." he chuckled as he let caressed all over your body. you pouted at his teasing, but that only prompted him to grab your face and kiss you before pounding into your pussy again.

you could barely warn jake before you inevitably came all over his hard cock. all you could do was let out pathetic moans and hold onto him as you reached your high which jake found oh-so cute.

"you did so good for me, princess," jake praised you as he gently rubbed your clit, his cock still buried deep inside you, "i won't last much longer either." he sighed breathily, flashing his pretty smile before giving you a few more strokes. soon enough, jake finished alongside you, his deep groans penetrating your ears as he let his seed leak into you.

the two of you sat catching your breaths for a bit before jake helped you get cleaned up. you ruffled his hair as he turned to hand you his suit jacket. jake draped his suit jacket across your shoulders, adoring the way you looked wearing his clothes before the two of you exited his office.

a co-worker of jake's stopped to say hello and commented on how lively he seemed today.

jake couldn't stop the cheeky grin from forming on his face.

"well, what can i say? i've got a really great assistant to keep me company."

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a/n: thankyouthankyouthankyou for reading <3 i've truly missed writing and you all so much ! i'll be back with another one soon my loves <3

main taglist: @axartia @jjhmk @jayroseyy @ayohahaha @asaheyow @bunhoons @red-xherry @duolingofanaccount @leeis @jaeyunologyy @green-orangeade @imbaeksbae @sunghoonmybeloved @leeheeheeseung (send an ask to be added + if you have asked to be on my permanent taglist and don't see your username, pls message me bc i removed blogs that were unable to be tagged!)

©yunjardi on tumblr

[lavenders388]

Hey! i was wondering if you can write a fluff story of kang dae ho x reader in the games! just about him being protective and stuff if you know what i mean!

~When the Sun Hits~

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚ Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

wc: 709 (short n sweet!)

a/n thank you so much for all the love and all the requests!! I'm getting my nails done soon LOL they're so grown out its hard to write so after that ill be more active!!! ily all<3 -matcha

comfort was hard to come by in this place of death, desperation, and shock, let alone the safety and security you craved. you felt much safer than you did the first game, compared to being alone and confused you now were part of a team, another member claiming to have gone through the games and offering help.

all of the members of your group had such unique personalities, gi hun being the one that originally caught your attention with his assistance in the first game; geum ja and her son's loving arguments providing a sense of sweetness and even occasional entertainment; jung bae's jokes providing humanity in the dark place you've all found yourselves trying to survive in. but no one caught your attention nearly as much as the man closest to your age, dae ho.

dae ho's respectful admiration of gi hun and then jung bae made you smile to yourself. "how could someone be so bubbly after what just happened here?" you wondered to yourself, the situation in front of you becoming more contrasting to the place it was happening in. you giggled to yourself as he shouted "SIR!" at jung bae for the fourth time in a row.

you didnt notice how it made him smile.

your focus shifted as gi hun began explaining the next game. the reality of going through the childhood game-themed blood bath sinking in. you listened intently as he explained what shape to pick. you began to feel less anxious, you knew what to expect and how to survive in the next game; and you weren't doing it alone, you had your team this time.

the thought of that made your demeanor soften. shifting from the feared facial expression to one of relief and appreciation. jung bae notices, asking you kindly "how are you holding up with all of this?" you respond with a smile, appreciating his care "better. I'm glad i found people and even more glad i have an idea of what I'm going into this time."

dae ho smiles again. this time you notice.

"are you feeling better as well? you should be, i mean you're the one who asked him." you said genuinely. he stutters; not expecting you to strike up a conversation with him and a bit embarrassed you noticed him smiling to himself. "i am!" he beams, "I'm also glad to have found a group, thank you for asking." your smile deepens, more than you had wanted it to. "thank you! what did you say your name was again?" you ask; knowing he had told jung bae his name earlier. "dae ho!" he exclaims adorably. "what is yours if you're comfortable sharing?" he asks respectful of the fact you may not want to share personal information at a death game. "y/n!" you say to him with a smile.

this time everyone notices how it makes you smile. jung bae chuckles as he gives gi hun a suggestive look.

"lights out is in 30 minutes." the recorded voice echos throughout the room. your fear returns as gi hun warns that things might get violent as the night progresses. your worry begins to show on your face as you look around, trying to remember where your bed was. the group, especially dae ho notices, and they all agree to let you stay near them for the night.

a silence falls on the group as the players all begin to settle in for the night. you turn around, noticing that dae ho moved from his bunk behind you to a new bed in front of you. you pretend not to notice, afraid you might smile or blush in an obvious way. you deeply appreciated the secure feeling being around this tall, handsome, almost stranger gave you.

he didnt feel like a stranger, you reminded yourself you just knew his name and that he was in the marines. you wanted to learn more; as you went to bed with the comforting stranger in front of you, protecting you from whatever lurked in the darkness, you hoped not just for your survival in the next game, but for your whole group to make it out.

you knew he would protect you against whatever was to come the next day.

✩°𓏲⋆🌿. ⋆⸜ 🍵✮˚

[luveline]

more hotch with teacher!reader? maybe she’s trying to take a bunch of things into her classroom one morning and hotch jumps in to help (and flirt with) them :)) i adore you’re writing thank you for sharing sm with us lately!!!

you’re so welcome ily ty for requesting! <3 fem, 1k

Today, you and your class are going to make dioramas with a heavy focus on paper crafting. For the last few days, you’ve helped them make plans on what they want to create, and then you scoured the internet for origami and craft tutorials to suit. The only one you couldn’t find was for poor Jamie’s tractors. You’ll figure it out, you’re sure. 

You’ve been saving cardboard boxes, toilet roll inserts, and egg cartons for months. There’s a total mountain of things to bring in, so you’re here early. You figure if you carry huge armfuls, you can get everything inside in three trips. 

“Oh,” you say, as a cardboard box tumbles to the ground, and somehow doesn’t give you a clearer view, “whoops. I’ll pick that up. Jeez.” 

You step over it and almost slip. 

“Careful,” someone says. 

You jump and send an egg carton skittering across the floor. “Oh, gosh! You scared me!” You twist your head, the cardboard that had been resting on your face falling down into your collar. “Oh, Mr. Hotchner.” 

Of course it’s Mr. Hotchner. Aaron, predictably. 

“Aaron,” he says, leaning down to grab the things you’ve dropped, before he opens his arm toward you. You lean away from your tower, embarrassed but relieved when he takes the bulk of your tall tower from you. 

“Thank you, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here so early. Is everything okay?” 

“Let me help you with this.” 

Avoiding the question. You and Aaron carry your cardboard inside to the classroom, where you unlock your door (and you never would’ve been able to do without his rescue). He follows you to the arts and crafts table toward the back of the room, and you deposit your stock. 

“Thank you,” you say when he places his armful down. 

“It’s no problem. Can I help with the rest?” 

“Would you, please?” you ask. “It seemed a lot less before today.” 

You bring the rest back in. He’s the picture of a perfect gentleman and carries more than you each time, which isn’t to say you can’t have carried the same as he did, but it’s nice for once to be the one looked after. As a teacher, you get used to giving. 

He doesn’t make you ask him twice. “I’m here early because I wanted to talk with you if you’re free, before I head into the office.” 

“His Aunt is bringing him today?” you ask about Jack. 

“I didn’t manage to get home in time last night to see him, but I’ll be here at pick up time.” 

You nod, hyper aware that you’d swayed the conversation again. “Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“It’s about Jack. Well, it’s mostly about me. I’d like to ask you for a favour, if you’re willing.” 

“Oh, sure. Of course.” 

“You haven’t heard it yet.” 

You flush under the weight of his knowing smile. “No, I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine. So…” 

“It’s hard sometimes to get Jack to tell me what you’re doing in school. I had no idea he’d be making dioramas today. And I don’t need your lesson plans, I’d never expect that of you, but I was hoping you could summarise the week for me on Fridays? Or whenever you can. I don’t need updates on how Jack is progressing, it could be a couple of words on the topics you’ve chosen, just so I know what he’s doing while I’m away.” 

You’ve never been asked to do it. Parents of kids in the second grade aren’t usually clocked in on what their kids are learning. School is still half fun at this age, your most important job is to make sure they can all read with acceptable fluency. And it’s hard because their parents don’t help, but it’s fine. You love teaching them something so important, and you’re ecstatic to meet someone who’s actually interested. 

You beam. “Yeah, of course I can. I can do that, I don’t mind. Nobody ever wants to know what we’re doing, which is such a shame! I mean, they’re so excited and of course their parents care, but if they have just a little bit of support it makes a huge difference. I can totally send you my lesson plans, Aaron. I’d like to.” You laugh to yourself smugly. “I never get to show them off. They’re extensive. And they take ages.” 

“You want to show them off?” he asks softly. 

His voice is velveteen. 

“Is that awful?” you ask.

“No, it makes sense. You really don’t have to if it’s too much trouble, but I… feel guilty, when I call him and ask how school was, and he can’t remember what happened.” 

“Don’t feel bad about that. The kids can’t remember what I told them ten minutes ago.” 

He isn’t like you, in that he’s very still. He doesn’t move or fidget, which makes his looking at you all the more obvious. “Thank you,” he says. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Can I pay you back?” 

You catch one of your bracelets and twist it around your wrist. 

Aaron told you without hesitation that he profiles criminals. He can read their expressions, habits, and idiosyncrasies as thoughts and feelings. He can trace movement to the source. You’re positive he wouldn’t keep asking you such leading questions, or insist you call him by his first name every time you see him, if he didn’t already know that you find him attractive. 

“How would you do that?” you ask. 

“Is there anything else you… need help with?” 

A million things, but you’re no idiot. You can read subtlety too. 

“Well, I have a bunch of textbooks on the top shelf in the stockroom you could help me with.” You smile shyly. “It gets hot in there, though.” 

He begins taking off his suit jacket. “That,” he says, his gaze on you with all the tenderness and amusement of someone who’s known you longer, “won’t be a problem.” 

[pedgito]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader x Tommy Miller

↝ series masterlist | masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | twisted into the miller brothers web, you find yourself deeply entangled in a complicated situation between the two and hell bent on self-preservation, you discover that running isn't always the best choice.

author's note | i was going to get this out before the end of the year if it was the last thing i did. i have never been so fully engulfed in a fic like this. it's just a little mini series, but i could talk about this shit for hours. thank you to everyone who's listened to my incoherent rambling and especially @gracieheartspedro who nailed down this ending when i was struggling so hard to decide. if you enjoy this silly story as much as me, ily.

content warning | 18+ smut, this is heavily joel miller x reader leaning, cannibalism, gore, mentions of violence, blood, death, joel's territorial <3, lots of unprotected sex going on 'round here, oral (f receiving), pain kink go hard, blood kink and consumption, biting kink, literal love as consumption, restraints, description of wounds from said bites, scarring, omitting a few tags for spoilers but please remember you are responsible for the work you consume, if you are ever feeling uncomfortable, do not continue reading. this is dark fic. that's the only warning i'm giving.

word count —13k, BITTER (part one)

“Killin’ is a viable option.”

Tommy groans, hand rubbing over his face as he leans against the kitchen counter, “They aren’t backwoods folk, Joel. You know that, we gotta be smart.”

“All they gotta do is get the law involved,” Joel points out, “fancy lawyers—“

“We’re selling to half that department,” Tommy argues, a long moment of silence before he adds, “and if you’d stop interrupting I’d tell you I already spoke to ‘em. Said I’d run it by you first before we set anything in stone.”

The big brother seal of approval.

You watch along curiously, stuck in the chair that Joel had a hand gripped around, sandwiched between them both as they volleyed arguments back and forth like they were fighting gladiators shoved in the colosseum—may the best man win.

“I still think we should just kill ‘em,” Joel chirps with finality, glancing briefly over your dumbstruck look, frozen somewhere between fear and shock, their voices fading in and out like muffled conversation, “make sure no one’ll come askin’ questions. Easy. You ain’t never had an issue with it before.”

The letter was still clutched in Tommy’s hand, a list of vague threats and accusations—the weird occurrences around the Miller property, the strange behavior of Tommy’s older brother, the smell. There wasn’t hard evidence, but they weren’t wrong either. A few minutes grazing the property and a look in the barn would confirm anyone’s suspicions—which, speaking of…

“Are you going to kill me now?”

 It was a brave thing to interject with, given Joel’s current hostility around the situation with their nosey neighbors and you, like a pest making a mess of his home. But, instead it was him. His mind—a foreign feeling that he didn’t like or intent to allow to wreak havoc much longer.

He’d kill you if he had to, if that was what it took.

Unsurprisingly, they both ignore you.

“Let me talk to ‘em tomorrow, Joel,” Tommy barters, “see if I can smooth things over.”

“Ya ain’t smoothin’ shit over, we know how this goes—you lose your temper and then we have a mess. Just take care of the fucking problem like I suggested.”

You knew the house, it was the only one within walking distance. Far off, covered by a line of trees and eclectic decor—you never thought much of it, under the impression that everyone in this town was as demented as the Miller brothers, most of the suspicions confirmed as the brothers continued to argue. 

It was an open secret—deranged and fucked-up, but there was full, completely loyalty.

If you had gone digging enough, you would have found out yourself. But, Joel wanted you to know. It takes a killer to know a killer—the wood of the chair cracks behind you as his grip tightens.

“We aren’t gonna hurt you,” Tommy comforts suddenly, a quick glance over of your injuries, “not intentionally, at least—”

“She fell,” Joel explains, a half-truth, “made a damn mess and wasted the scraps for the pigs—”

“Joel,” Tommy warns, returning his gaze to you, “You’ve been good to us, better than most. We can trust each other, alright? Ain’t no reason to think otherwise.”

He was sickeningly sweet, laying it on so thick you see right through the facade. He was upset, rightfully so, but you weren’t sure how much of it was directed at Joel and how much of it was directed at you.

“When did I surpass being a meal?” You turn your attention toward Tommy, flicking your eyes up briefly at Joel, “Was it before or after you fucked me?”

You expect it to be newfound information to Joel, but he doesn’t react in the slightest. He almost smirks, actually. A sudden, miniscule response that you wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t so on edge.

“Now, darlin’—”

“Cut the shit, Tommy,” You retort, “When did it happen?”

“Still a chance, if you’re feelin’ persistent,” Joel taunts.

Tommy shoots Joel a dangerous glare before his face softens.

“The thought never occurred to me,” Tommy replies though you find it hard to believe him, “M’not sayin’ we’ve been this kind to everyone, but with you—s’different. Right, Joel?”

“Well, she does like the taste,” He grins viciously, a showing of teeth that sends your body into a full chill, “ate it right up, loved it.”

Your eyes shoot daggers in his direction and he shrugs, his tongue shoved into his cheek as he moves to stand, turning in a circle on his heels as he leans against the nearest surface.

“I mean it, you’re safe with us,” Tommy assures, “out there—we can’t protect you. And if you think we’re the monsters, you’re in for a rude awakenin’, baby.”

“Don’t,” You chuffle, a short laugh through your nose, “I’ll—I’ll stay, but this,” You wave your finger between him and you, before it circles the group, a discoordinated trio, “I don’t trust either of you and don’t call me that. Don’t call me anything, actually.”

Your anger was justified and Tommy didn’t try to argue, only sinking back in his chair with an ‘I told you so’ look on Joel’s face. Luckily, they leave you to gather yourself, ignoring the subtle sting from the wounds on your legs and your spiraling thoughts—you could wait until nightfall.

That was it—wait long enough until it was dark and they were both asleep and make a run for the only sane people in the nearest vicinity. They could help you and help take the two brothers down in the process, it was a fair victory for the opposing party and your only saving grace.

–

They retire to their rooms eventually, the insistent chirp of crickets keeping you awake, standing on sore legs as you move around the dark room and pulling on a warm pair of clothes to trek against the nighttime winds. 

You were careful, prying open doors with a quiet effort and allowing the softest steps against the old floorboard as you reached the door, immediately met with the deadbolt lock and an even heftier lock to keep you trapped–or to Tommy, safe. The house was silent aside from the sounds of nature, the occasional howling wind blowing through but you looked around, searching for another path—you had already made it this far, you weren’t going to go scrambling back.

If anything, the backdoor would have the same locks and your eyes scan the windows, closed shut but not inescapable. If either of them decided to wake, they would surely know. 

There was no time to deliberate or weigh the consequences, hurrying toward the living room window that led toward the yard, pulling it up with forceful but cautious precision, ripping at the screen.

It isn’t an easy feat, not nearly the path you would have chose, but you fell to the ground with a deft slump, careful of your fresh bandages and gravel under your hands as you land, wincing as you stand but peering inside of the house cautiously, determining if you needed to make a run for it.

Silence meets you. Dead silence.

The eerie feeling in the distance creeps in, eyeing the house over your shoulder that is still lowly lit but quite the walk, you turn on your heels and make the long walk there, wondering if darting off down the road would be simpler, continuing until you came upon another sign of civilization or normality, anything to save you.

As you grow closer, the muffled melodic tunes coming from the house start to drown out your stream of thoughts, the bass booming from the driveway as you grow closer. You careful approach the steps to their door, pressing a finger into the doorbell as it chimes throughout the house—the music lowers in an instant, quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop, the door ripping open with a forceful gust of air, meet with the fierce scowl of an older gentleman.

It was hard to describe him, but there was so much going on—a peek at the inner house decor that screamed for a touch of neutralness, a mix of beaded necklaces hanging around his neck over a stretched out tank, barefoot as he approached you on the mat at his door.

It only dawns on you now that you hadn’t prepared anything—you were drawing a complete blank.

“You better start talking,” He speaks, a grittiness to his voice that stills you at your core, “botherin’ us in the middle of the night—”

“You’re right,” You blurt out, shaking your head slightly as you realize how abrasive it was, taking a breath before you speak slower, “about Joel and Tommy, you’re right. They’re bad people.”

His expression turns steely, jaw tightening as he straightens his back in an intimidating manner. You couldn’t mistake the whiff of alcohol on his breath, his drifting eyes down the length of your body, slowly realizing that this might have been a mistake.

Self-preservation had always come first, even if you didn’t think the Miller’s were the worst possible people you could have come across, they were unfortunate targets in the moment. 

“They—they are killing,” You point vaguely in the direction of the house, “it’s—the smell, it’s the bodies. They’re murders, you have to help me,” It comes out in a panic and you stutter as the confession rolls off your tongue, his expression only growing dark as time passes.

Fuck, he didn’t believe you. Of course—who would? 

Hey, you’ve got a couple cannibals for neighbors—let’s deal with them.

It was never that easy.

“You don’t think I know?” He responds, stepping into your space to send you stumbling backwards, but his arms lock around your biceps and keep you upright, but not for the reason he should, feeling the sting of pain as he squeezes down hard.

You gasp at the suddenness of it, “N—no, no! You have to believe me!”

“I’ve seen you helpin’ them,” He nods vaguely, “Think I’m gonna believe this shit? Where are they, huh?” The spit from his vicious reaction and volume sprays against your face as he shoves you to the ground, your arms skidding against the cement as you scramble backwards, trying to flee his quickly approaching figure, “They use you as bait?”

He’s over you before you have a chance to roll out of the way, your forearm presses up against his neck as he leers, glancing around for any sign of the brothers—silently praying that he was right in the moment, but you knew there was no one to help. Just you. Just him.

He forces you onto your stomach as your face was smashed into the rock path along the driveway, “Well, good—they can watch,” It makes your blood run cold, sensing the exact implication of his words as you calmly and slyly wrap your fingers around a palm sized rock, curling it in your fist as he leans back on his legs, twisting in his grip and bashing the rock blindly at his face, a grunt releasing from him as you make contact with his skull, falling to the ground with a dead weight as you scramble away breathless.

You stare at the sight, a man near death on his lawn before the whistle fades in—low and melodic as it approaches with the sound of heavy boots and speaking before you can react.

“Well, look at that,” Joel looks on in admiration, a small suspicion of amusement in his tone as he steps onto the lawn and peers over you, hand extended out blindly for help as he cautiously steps around the pooling blood of the now dead man, “little messier than I like, but you got the job done.”

If looks could kill—you’re seething, staring up at Joel with narrowed eyes as you take his hand and stand.

“I’ll give you some credit,” Joel continues, “You’re resourceful but predictable—suppose you can’t trust anyone in this town anymore, can you?”

He’s cocky about it, which pisses you off more. Undoubtedly, he was probably watching you the entire time, waiting in the shadows, undetectable. He’s mastered his craft, he killed people for a living. It wasn’t a mystery how he knew or expected your retaliation. But, his reaction is jarring.

“C’mon, up,” He yanks at your hand and helps you upright, instinctually brushing the clumps of grass and dirt out of your hair with a pinched expression as your eyes slowly drag toward the motion, unmoving out of…not fear. It was something indescribable, flinching at the heat of his hands as his eyes gradually rose toward the upstairs window.

“You know what happens next, right?” Joel asks, kicking at the dead body to roll him on his back, staring down at the lifeless corpse.

You didn’t need the whole speech—murder me now, please. Spare me the misery.

“Alright, alright,” Joel sighs, almost like he’s carrying on a conversation with himself—and with your silence, he was. But, he senses your fear, “well—you can’t just murder one and not the other, you little killer. You’re gonna take care of the other one, too.”

“Joel—I—” The adrenaline rush was waning, the bile in your stomach swimming and swirling.

His face hardens in an instant, forcing his hand over your mouth with a stern shake of his head as your eyes grow wide, “Ain’t time for excuses.  You made this mess—you’re gonna finish it.”

You blink slowly, searching for any sign of a bluff. It never comes, in fact, his grip only grows tighter until you answer, shakily nodding your head.

“Go on,” He urges, “I’m right behind you.”

He’d have a front row seat this time instead of waiting in the wings. 

Joel wanted a full taste.

–

The wife is tucked into bed when you finally find her, barricaded in her sheets and sleeping soundly despite the loud, blaring music when you first approach the house—you figured it was a regular occurrence, but you don’t linger on the thought long. 

You hold onto the thought of the husband and his unwillingness to hear you out, how they seemed to already have you figured out, wrapped up in the Miller’s web and just another willing accomplice, repeating the same careful steps from earlier that had clearly failed you as Joel breathed over your shoulder.

It needed to be quick—not entirely painless, but clean.

The vase to the left of her head seemed like an emergency option, the woman splayed out on her back as you searched around, knowing that you didn’t have long with Joel’s looming presence. You chew at your bottom lip as you reach carefully for the pillow beside her head and slowly press it over her face, a few seconds of calm before you find yourself in a predicament.

Climbing over her lap, you mount and press the weight of your palms into the pillow, face scrunched in concentration as the woman flails and shakes against the movement, grunting meekly as your hand slips against the scratch of her nails, glaring at Joel for a silent plea of help, realizing that she was putting up far more of a fight then either of you expected.

He waits until the last possible second, an unreadable expression on his face before he’s flipping the switchblade out of his pocket and piercing it through her clavicle, the blood squirting on your chest and face, rearing back instinctually as you gasp, her body falling lifeless in an instant.

“I can appreciate the effort,” Joel comments, wiping the blade off on the sleeve of your shirt before he pockets it again, “how’d that feel?”

You don’t realize your heart is racing until he asks the question—it was a similar feeling to a drug-induced high, slightly floaty and off-balance, your mind hazy as you blink, the stench of iron filling your senses and that strange look on Joel’s face returns.

You understand it then—lust, another subtle hint as he licks at his bottom lip out of reflex.

Joel would lick you clean if you let him.

You clear your throat and speak quietly, “What—what do we do?”

“Well, we gotta transfer ‘em to the house,” Joel explains, “So, you’ll stay here and wait—not run, that clear?”

You nod mindlessly, towering over your second dead body of the night.

You were far too deep now.

You don’t move—not really. You sink to the sheets beside the woman’s body but you listen dutifully, ears perking up at the roar of an approaching truck and door slamming followed by footsteps before Joel reappears again, seemingly breathing out a sigh of subtle relief as he spots you.

He’d never admit it, but you can see it.

It take a while, but eventually you carry both bodies into the bed of the truck and cover them with tarp, questioning Joel on what happens with the house, the evidence, everything that could essentially criminalize both of you—

“That’s above my paygrade, honey,” You’re not amiss to the change in his voice, his expression more relaxed as he shifts the truck into gear, “the sheriff handles all that for us.”

“And…the sheriff…he—”

Joel chuckles, “It’s everyone. Not just a group of us. We aren’t just sellin’ to townsfolk, either. It’s overseas, across the country. Shit is high risk, high reward. Why do you think I followed you tonight?”

So, he did follow you—he’d known the entire time.

“I saw the idea pop into your head earlier while Tommy and I were arguin’. Like I said, predictable. I’m not sayin’ you didn’t have a fair reaction, I get it. But, we can keep you safe.”

You cross your arms over your chest silently, skin and face caked with blood.

“But will you?” You retort, “Can I really trust you both?”

As the truck pulls in near the barn, the ignition falls silent.

“I want to,” Joel admits, “natural ability like that shouldn’t be wasted.”

A natural-born killer, he means.

“You feelin’ guilty right now?” Joel asks, eyebrows raised.

You shake your head quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Joel works silently to unload the bodies and load them in the barn as you sit quietly in the passenger seat, staring at the barn door as he drags tarp covered corpses inside with a brute strength unlike his brother, somehow spotless throughout the entire ordeal.

“I’ll move the truck in the morning,” Joel tells you as he pulls your door open, a hand waiting in assistance as you climb out on unsteady feet, the ache of your wounds coming back in waves as reality sets in.

“It is morning,” You retort, earning a huff of annoyance from Joel.

“You know what the fuck I meant,” He responds, his thumb flicking at a flake of dried blood on your collarbone as you stand in front of him, “Tommy’ll get pissy if you wash the blood off in the main bathroom—I’ll let you use mine.”

Your face contorts in a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Or I can hose you down out here, your choice.”

–

The house is as quiet as you left it, guided silently with the touch of Joel’s hand between your shoulder blades as you traversed the dark house—and you aren’t sure what you were expecting as you enter Joel’s bedroom, but it wasn’t this.

It was lived-in, personal; full of books and random trinkets, pictures lining the top of his dresser and walls—his family, you can only assume. A few pictures of kids that you surmise are Joel and Tommy, you avoid Joel’s gaze as you look around aimlessly, clearing your throat as you approach the bathroom, hearing the light flick on beside your head.

It was clean, at least. A dark colored shower curtain hiding the tub away from view and his bathroom amenities only slightly astray, probably from previous use that night. 

You turn to him with a quizzical expression, his expression matching.

“What? Somethin’ wrong?” He asks.

“It’s just—it’s…clean. It doesn’t—it doesn’t fit you, I guess.”

“I’m just a dirty old man to you, ain’t I?”

It’s a joke, but his delivery falls flat.

“I’m confused, I guess.” You tell him honestly, “Look at me—” A vague gesture at your own disheveled state, dirt and blood smeared on your face as he tilts his head against the doorframe.

“I am,” The deep timber to his voice strikes you at your core, a casual but unsuspecting answer, “I cleaned up for the night, wasn’t plannin’ on getting dirty again.”

“But, you’re always dirty.”

His job required that—but Joel was meticulous about his routine after he was done for the day. Dinner, a thorough shower, sometimes another if he was feeling particularly bothered, and the quiet of the calm house to lull him to sleep.

Unfortunately, that routine has been disrupted since you arrived. 

Like an infestation, you’d taken over.

Joel ignores you with a half-assed shrug and flicks a dried speck of blood from your nose.

“Go on,” He demands, “I’ll grab you some clothes and fresh bandages.”

You clear your throat awkwardly and nod as you gently swat his hand away, avoiding his gaze as you press the door closed enough that it doesn’t lock, but allows you the privacy to undress.

It feels good to clean the blood and grime away, scrubbing at your body until it burns, bathing in the distinct smell of Joel’s body wash, a faint hint of it always wafting off of him despite his usually dirtied state.

You can hear him moving quietly beyond the curtain, his shadow passing a few times as you’re expecting him to fold against the urge to peek his head beyond the curtain—something, anything.

You hated the forced gentlemanly facade. 

Once you’re out of the shower and dressed in clothes Joel had picked out, a matching set and a fresh pair of underwear that had you glancing sideways at him as his fingers peeked around the bathroom door with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and fresh bandages in his hands.

He kneels quietly with a concentrated expression, mirroring his actions from before. Wincing through the sting of pain as he cleans and dresses your wounds, catching his glances as the noises slip beyond your lips—an inconspicuous check-in, wordless.

You can’t help but fuck with him now, defenses down.

His eyes follow the way your hand smooths over the waistband of your shorts, your thumb slipping beyond the thick band as you lean against the mirror, watching as he taped down the gauze, “Kinda defeats the purpose, don’t it?”

“What’re ya gettin’ at?”

“The whole—bet you can’t guess what color underwear I’m wearing joke,” You play quietly with the waistband, fingers twirling in the drawstrings below your navel as your thighs spread against his guidance, his hand sliding down to your ankle to raise your leg higher in an effort to secure the bandage, “I see you wanted them to match,” You jest at him lightly, noticing the way his eyes immediately lock onto the apex of your thighs.

He brushes it off, a roll of his eyes as he finishes up his job, carefully piling up the trash on the floor as you slowly slide off the bathroom counter, leaving his head level with your waist. 

Had you asked yourself if you wanted to be this close to him twelve hours ago, the answer would have been different, but the downright pathetic look on his face as his eyes drag up your body and eventually land on your face are a powerful spell.

Slowly, your hands drift into his hair—surprisingly soft as the curls sway with your movement, gripping the hair tight and pushing his head back in the process, a low rumble in his throat at the action.

“Do you like that?” You inquire, his eyes darkening at the question as he sets his sight on something he wants—a primal gaze, almost like a warning.

“You tryin’ to make my brother jealous?” He asks, “Think I should tell him about your plan to rat us out—how it didn’t work and now you’re tryin’ this—”

“I can’t leave now,” You admit, still not fully settled with the idea but deep down you knew, “I—I do feel safe, you know. With you—”

You exhale shakily as his lips press against the sliver of skin beneath your shirt, just below your navel as his eyes fall shut, his tongue following the path as he presses surprisingly gentle kisses into the skin before his fingers are curling over the band of your shorts.

“Don’t trust me, though—do you?” Joel asks snarkily, eyes peeking open slightly as your lips part in a soft gasp as he pulls the clothing down your hips, peeling the underwear down with it.

One hand drags up your calf, calloused hands against soft skin as he pulls one knee over his shoulder and shoves your shirt upwards, giving him an obscured view of your cunt, lips spreading open with the movement and glistening with slick despite how much you tried to loathe him—there was a racing in your heart that differed from Tommy, like you know you shouldn’t be doing this but your body was demanding otherwise.

You shake your head lazily as it drops back, slumping against the medicine cabinet as he drags a finger through your folds, toying with your clit in small movements, silent as he drinks in every small sound you make, your opposite hand digging into the counter of the sink as his fingers dig into your thigh, opening your eyes as he presses his lips to your cunt, right against the mound and into the short, coarse patch of hair before he’s spreading his tongue out flat against you and licking a slow, tortuous line up the seam.

“Trust–trust is earned,” You reply breathily, “It, fuck—it takes time.”

Joel hums a response of approval as his nose nudges against your clit, tongue dipping inside of your hole as he stared up at you, even at this angle you could see the smug smirk on his face as he drank you in—Joel was still a frightful man, enough unknown that you found yourself wondering if the choices you were making were correct, if somehow this would cost you your life in the end.

But, then he’s pulling away, dragging his finger up the seam of your pussy as he stands, unbuckling his belt quietly as you strip your shirt away, not needing to be told or guided, his tanned skin flushed a subtle red as he unbuttons and parts his flannel, adjusting his jeans and underwear down just far enough under his balls that they sit snug against the fabric, his cock intimidatingly large against his even larger hands.

So much with Joel is unspoken, his intensity held in his gaze. Even from your first meeting, there was a look—and even now, he’s got that look. Like he’s trying to decipher you.

He flattens one hand against the bathroom counter as you spread your legs to accommodate him, his other hand grabbing at your ass to pull you near the edge before he’s running his hand down his shaft, the foreskin swallowing up the red, angered tip of his cock before he’s pulling back and rubbing his cock through your folds, gathering the wetness there and pressing inside with a pinched expression on your face, your breath catching as your hand twists into his shirt.

“That hurt?” He asks, his voice taking on a softer tone.

You nod fervently, “Yeah—yeah, it’s—you’re…pretty big,”

You weren’t trying to actively compare the brothers, but the thought passes in your mind and Joel notices the thoughtful look on your face, huffing out a laugh under his breath.

“Good,” That it hurts—he wanted you to feel it tomorrow, that it would be a constant reminder.

He’s a natural masochist, but he wasn’t about not enjoying sex. So, while he savors the soft hiss of pain at first, the dig of your nails into his chest, eventually you relax and turn to curling yourself around him, legs tight around his hips and your arms slung over his shoulders as he presses his forehead into your own and fucks you with a slow, powerful force of thrusts that make the walls shake—surely it would wake his brother, maybe that was what he wanted.

His mouth parted slightly, panting out hot against your skin as he glares at you—into you, through you, your eyes fluttering open and shut as he follows your trailing gaze, the precipice of your pleasure clawing over the edge of their metaphorical walls.

“Yeah, s’right there—isn’t it?” He taunts, a half smirk on his face as he watches you.

Always watching you.

You nod again, feeling the hand that was squeezing at your thigh digging into your skin as he used it for leverage, thrusting into you while he guided your hips toward him, using your body like he had full control over it. His other hand finds your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his hand before he’s rubbing his thumb over the quickly hardening bud, a shiver running down your spine.

There was nowhere to hide with Joel, all imperfections on display as your head lulls back against the mirror, eyes opening to find him matching your expression—somewhat sated but nearing the edge of his own release, he nudges his chin up and speaks, “S’this what gets you off?”

Your brow furrows as you tilt your head, his hand trading your breast for the hand twisted into his shirt, guiding it toward your clit as he gives you a silent order, your fingers circling the sensitive nub.

“Fuckin’ both of us—s’gonna be a hell of an issue when he finds out, you know.”

“Is this what you like—huh, talking about while you fuck?” You counter, “Your brother?”

His jaw shakes slightly as he gaze dips, admiring the way your cunt swallowed him up, his fingers wrapped around the wrist that was working at your clit, toes curling as your knees squeezed into his hips, that heat building in your core.

“I can talk about how he eats pussy better than you,” It’s teasing, an effort to get a rise out of him, “or do you—you wanna hear how he whimpers when he fucks me because he’s so pathetic? Is th—is that what you want?” His hips stuttered with your words, “He’s so much sweeter, you know? S’all soft and kind—”

Nothing like Joel.

His hand seems to loosen at the mention, but you shake your head.

“Oh, don’t ease up now, honey—I never said I liked it.”

Joel opens his mouth to speak, but you didn’t want to hear it, shoving your opposite hand over his mouth as you both spill over the edge, the ache of loss finding you as he pulls out, thick ropes of come panting your stomach as you clench around the emptiness, his teeth digging into the palm of your hand as he groans with his release.

“I’ll handle Tommy,” Joel promises as you both dress, cleaning yourself up as he buttons his shirt, “It’ll be easier coming from me.”

“You don’t have to lie, he should know—”

“I’m not,” He responds quickly, looking up at you through his downturned gaze, “like you said—trust is earned. You’ll earn it.”

How was a mystery—but what other choice did you have?

-

You learn very quickly that Joel was intentional in you earning his trust—not so much Tommy. He wasn’t surprised by your attempt to escape, but the marring of their neighbors—yours too, now—he was slightly disappointed. Hoping that he could spare you the gruesome side of things, that keeping you within the house and under his watch would help save your innocence about the entire ordeal.

But, he quickly finds out that isn’t the case.

And you find out how steady their diet of human meat was, a fridge stocked full of various cuts and textures, unsuspecting to the eye but you knew—and truthfully, the sickness dissipates after a month of eating that way. Tommy will occasionally skip a day or two, sometimes even a week.

Whereas Joel, he’s fully accepted his ways.

“How does it work?” You ask curiously, night has crept in and left both you and Joel, who you’ve gradually drifted toward lately, aware of Tommy’s lingering touches and fighting that feeling of betrayal on both ends—Tommy never seemed to mind you favoring Joel, even indirectly. However, Joel was territorial, overwhelmingly so. You wished you disliked it, but that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“How’s what work?” He asks, legs spread wide on the couch as take a seat beside him, legs curled under your body and the fire crackling beside you, his hair wet from a recent shower and his shirt sticking to his skin, “Tommy’s job?”

You nod quietly, chewing on a piece of dried meat, akin to jerky. 

You’ve willingly succumbed to the lifestyle over the past few weeks, partly to blame on Joel, but mostly out of your own morbid curiosity, finding that it wasn’t all that bad as the nauseous and general sickness fell dormant. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Joel answers bluntly, but honest, “He’s got some kinda system going, I do my job—cuttin’ things up, mindin’ my business. I just know it makes us damn good money.”

You wouldn’t be able to tell outside of their house, but they kept things well within the interior—they owned nice things, you assumed they were out of debt and had money saved back, but they lived beneath their means as much as possible. 

Joel liked a quiet life, you could tell. 

“I could help out more, you know.”

Outside of your general duties and decent pay—it felt lacking, like you could be doing more.

Neither of the brothers kept you chained or trapped, that much was obvious. And you didn’t feel the lingering threat of something to come, the need to run—the feeling of security was something you had searched out for a while and oddly, they provided that. 

In some sick, fucked up way, you felt protected. 

“Stock is runnin’ low,” Joel debates, his thumb circling the beer bottle between his legs, while his other trails along his bottom lip in thought, “I got an idea, dunno if Tommy’s gonna like it.”

“Who cares what he thinks?” You reply, “He cowers like a puppy when it comes to you.”

It was essentially a lure and catch situation—Joel never strayed too far, always on the outskirts while you found the next willing victim, it was always you approaching them, never the opposite. You were in full control and under very specific orders. 

Never people in town, always the stragglers. The more meek and unsuspecting the better, but it varied—after a couple months, Joel doesn’t even bother to stick around, sitting in his truck while you finish up the job.

And you’ve learned over time just how different Tommy and Joel are—Tommy prefers seclusion in the extremist of ways, more subdued with his affection when Joel was around and didn’t argue with him in your presence, almost like he was attempting to shield you.

Joel is out late in the barn when Tommy crowds you in the kitchen, a curious and longing stare out the window at the closed barn door, his tell-tale throat clearing as his hands wrap around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as you sip gingerly at the glass of water in your hands.

“M’glad you feel safe here,” Tommy murmurs into your skin, a soft peppering of kisses along your spine as he moves the material of your shirt out of the way, his fingers slipping beyond the thick waistband of your pants, shoving them down wordlessly, “ready for bed?”

“Not yet,” You admit, letting the silence linger before you speak again, “Can I ask you something—and I’m just curious, I swear.”

Tommy makes a noise of approval. 

“What happened to my car?” A laugh bubbles up at the thought and Tommy laughs too.

“I mighta sold it for scraps when you agreed to stayin’ with us long term. I was meaning to tell you, but you never asked…so I figured…”

Who cares, right? Truly, it was a piece of shit anyways.

You laugh softly at his advances as they grow more needy, your arm curling behind you to flex your fingers in his outgrown hair, “I want you to fuck me here,” You admit, his eyes peeking open as he leans over your shoulder to look at you, a salacious smile on your face as you lean back, rubbing your ass against his cock, growing hard underneath the confines of his sweats, before you turn to face him, “like this—right here.”

Fortunately, it takes very little convincing. He’s impatient in his movements, only getting both of your pants down before he’s pushing the head of his cock inside of you, a welcomed but comfortable stretch before his cock is fully seated inside of you, walls squeezing down tight as he buries his face into your clothed chest, your hands cradling his head as he rocks into you at a gentle pace.

“God, I’m never gonna get tired’f this,” Tommy groans weakly, a hand gripping tight at your hip as he quickens his thrusts, one hand falling back on the counter to support the forceful angle of his movements, laughing breathlessly at his comment, his head rises to look at you with complete and full admiration, “I’m serious, baby.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” You assure him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips that quickly divulges into an open-mouthed exploration as you trade sounds, feeling Tommy teeter closer to the edge of his own orgasm as his fingers drift against your clit, always assuring that you were taken care of first—it doesn’t take long, hands gripping the curtain above the sink as your whine loudly against his ministrations. 

Tommy is too distracted to hear the quiet creak of the door, but you’re not. The lights are off, only granting you a silhouette of Joel, but you know—he’s smirking to himself, closing the door behind him quietly as he freezes for a moment, seemingly locking eyes with your sated expression, your orgasm hitting you just as he passes down the hall, his face coming into view for a brief moment.

It was pathetic, how quickly your mind drifted to him even while his brother was buried inside of you, your grip on the curtain tightens, pulling the rod from the wall and sending it clanging down against the sink as it startles you back to reality, feeling Tommy’s hips stutter before he’s pulling out and you sink to the ground instinctively, lips wrapping around his cock as he releases the warmth of his cum against your tongue, a heady but tolerable taste that slides down your throat with ease. 

Joel is already gone by the time you rise to your feet, redressing quietly as Tommy examines the broken curtain with a subdued chuckle, tossing the few pieces of sheetrock in the trash.

“Sorry,” You wince, looking at him apologetically.

Tommy grins, his thumb rubbing down the center of your chin in a comforting way as he shrugs, waving it off, “Easy fix.”

The difference between the two is simple to spot after a while—Joel’s leniency with things comes to a head as Tommy’s rigidness battles for dominance. He doesn’t make it a habit to put his foot down often, but he was already increasingly hesitant as you started luring people back to the farm—while thankful, it was dangerous. You were good at it, without fail, but something was bound to implode.

–

“She’s earned it, you know,” Joel fights for you, the usual recluse encourages a night-out—a real one, no work, just pure enjoyment, “Ain’t much trouble to get into there.”

The bar, he means. With how often you frequented it now, it was like a second home.

You were coming up on your sixth month mark of living with the Millers, finding the stragglers came in like a cycle, every few weeks, and the town was due for more.

Tommy squints cautiously, turning in the desk chair as the heel of his boot scuffs against the flooring, “An hour—only an hour, don’t need you stickin’ out like a sore thumb.”

Joel, he means. He rolls his eyes in response, dressed more casual than you’ve ever seen him. It was a simple pair of jeans and a dark-colored shirt, but it made him seem normal.

It was unsettling.

“Don’t worry,” Joel smirks, “No one’ll touch her.”

Except him, you think.

Tommy wasn’t oblivious to your odd affection toward Joel, but he wasn’t privy to every detail. He didn’t know how often you snuck into Joel’s bed at night, sometimes after being on his own before that, the devouring looks and purposeful touches that always happened behind his back.

Joel knows you find comfort in Tommy, but there was something missing.

Something lacking.

Tommy eventually relents and you arrive at the bar a half hour later, Joel in tow.

And it is mostly uneventful, drinking amongst the other patrons with the loud rumble of music drowning out far away voices—Joel was stoic, like a bodyguard over your shoulder as he seemed to people watch, like he often did.

“You’re doing it again,” You tell him, peering up at him from your seat as he glances down, his glass pressing to his lips, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from the occasional townsperson, seemingly shocked to see him. 

“No I’m not,” He argues, tapping his finger against your lips before he’s guiding the glass to your lips, a wordless order to silence yourself, “Drink, enjoy it—or all that beggin’ was for nothin’.”

Eventually, Joel lets you wander.

Even if it was to dance lazily a few feet away, practically begging him to join you with your hand outstretched, a constant scowl on his face as he refused. But, eventually someone takes that offer for him, obstructing his view with a grin—an older gentleman with wiry hair and rotted teeth.

There’s a few moments of uncomfortable movement before you’re making an excuse to flee toward Joel who snickers at your discomfort, a hand wrapping at your waist to pull you between his legs as the man, persistent as you suspected, approaches beside you.

“Tommy finally let his dog out of the house?” He asks over you, staring Joel down.

Joel chuckles at that, subdued as his hand tightens against your waist, hiding your own giggle behind a sip of beer.

“C’mon, sweetheart—I’ll show you a better time than this guy. Wouldn’t know how to care for a nice piece of ass like that—him or his damn brother.”

Joel stands then, without warning as he towers over the man and you as he forces you into the seat, “Get the fuck out of here,” It was the only warning he was offering, but it strikes fear through the man without fail, sending him scurrying off for the moment.

“Tommy’s gonna kill you when he finds out about that,” You comment as Joel approaches at your back, maneuvering you out of the seat to settle between his legs again, his large palm settling against your stomach as he pulls you against him, spotting the man again from across the room, staring you both down with hardened eyes.

“What he doesn't know won’t hurt him,” Joel argues, the surprising press of his lips against your neck as you jump at the touch, calmed by his reassuring words, “Gonna scare him off, alright?”

“How—” You’re cut off on a gasp as his hand travels up your shirt, squeezing at your breast as his teeth dig into your skin, mouth hung open as you stumble back against him, eyes fluttering closed at the stinging pinch of Joel’s teeth, hard enough that you fear it breaking through the skin

Surely, it does. 

As Joel raises his head and catches sight of the man’s widened eyes, he scurries off. He’s not amiss to your reaction to the bite, fingers clawing into his skin, moaning at the action. Really, he should’ve expected it.

“Turn around,” He orders, spinning you on your feet before you can react on your own, catching sight of your dilated pupils as you stare at him wondrously, a smile growing on your face as his impatience grows.

He ignores your wandering hands that crawl up his arms, gripping onto his large biceps before he’s hauling you out of the bar without a word, arm twisted behind your back as you tumble on your feet toward his truck parked in the far back of the parking lot, far away from the roar of music.

“Did I do something—oh,” You squeak, jumping back at the creak of the drivers’ side door as he sandwiches you between the seat and him, “wrong—Joel, did I—”

You’re stuttering but he isn’t answering and you begin to crawl to your side of the seat before he’s stopping you in your tracks, feet pressing against the step bar of the truck while the upper half of your body curls against the seat—and Joel, with his large and threatening presence, towers.

He works at the belt in your jeans, turning your head over your shoulder as he rips the leather from the loops of your pants, “Put your hands on the steering wheel,” He orders and you follow suit, watching as he quietly tightened the belt around your hands and through the steering wheel, rendering you immobile from the waist up.

“Wait—right here? But, there’s people—”

Never stopped you before,” He comments and your face heats at the mention, having never brought up the instance with you and Tommy until now, “I’m not a fan of waiting and I’m not against takin’ you in front of my brother—rather not, but…”

“You like having me to yourself,” You finish for him, a hum of acknowledgement following. 

Joel yanks at your jeans until they fall to your ankles, pulling them off alongside your shoes and underwear as he tosses them over your head and into the passenger seat, sinking to his knees without a word as he parts your legs, licking into your with warning as you gasp, your hands yanking against the leather belt.

He squeezes your ass in his hands, spreading you open as he dips his tongue inside of you, forcing you up on your toes as you curse into the seat of his truck, forehead pressing into the fabric as your hands are stretched over your head. 

He’s got an idea…a lingering suspicion as he trails his lips along the inside of your legs, never quite kissing or lingering, just a slow drag before he’s digging his teeth into your skin, a sharp pain that makes your pussy clench, his eyes locked on the action as he bites down. 

Instinctively, you yank against the binds, the urgency growing as he bites down more, picking various places along your legs until he decides to bite into the fleshy cheek of your ass, purposefully breaking the skin—the tiniest drop of blood pooling at the surface before he licks it away. 

He repeats the process, trading between bites and licking at your cunt until your orgasm catches you by surprise, panting against the seat as you catch your breath with his satisfied presence looming behind. 

Quietly, he rustles with his belt and slides into you without a word until he’s got his hand tucked up under your chin, wrapped around your throat as he presses you against the seat with his chest, turning your head to the side to catch your already fucked-out expression, more turned on from the biting than the fact that his dick was finally inside of you.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Joel remarks, watching the smile spread across your face, “You like it when I bite you? The pain?”

You shake your head with a soft hum, “S’nice, but I like you marking your territory.” You watch his face morph into something indecipherable as you laugh, “Got you really riled up in there, didn’t it?”

“Gotta let them know to lead you back to me if you go runnin’ off again,” Joel taunts, grunting against the shell of your ear as your walls squeeze down when the head of his cock nudges at a particular spot inside of you that steals your breath away, “Yeah—that? That right there?”

You nod weakly, wishing you could touch him—claw at his skin, grab on and take hold, but you were left helpless. Though, somehow it was more comforting this way. Joel was increasingly careful of the authority you tried to hold over him, never allowing you to have the upper hand—and you didn’t mind it.

Again, it was the stark difference between he and Tommy, who’d be willing to bend to your will if you asked, eager to please you, but with Joel, it was kismet. He always knew what you were thinking before you even spoke about it.

And as the ache in your wrist grows into full discomfort he releases them without a word of acknowledgement, lips parted with bated breath as you turn until your back is pressing into the seat, legs wrapping around his waist as he hoists you up with his brute strength, releasing a loud moan of expressive pleasure as you surge forward, pressing your lips against his before he can object, licking into his mouth with profound eagerness as his nails dig into the skin at your hips, his balls tightening with an impending release as he returns the wet, sloppy exchange of lips.

It stalls him for a moment, the sensual pace of your lips pulling his focus up, your tongue twirling around his own before they trail to his lips, your lips dragging down his chin, along his jaw, before you’re biting against where his jugular would be hiding under his skin, not nearly hard enough to cause any damage but enough to have his eyes rolling back and his hips stuttering.

“Don’t—don’t pull out,” You tell him through a murmur, running your tongue along the mark in a soothing gesture, catching his gaze as he looks at you, “What? Are you scared, Joel?”

Not scared—Joel wasn’t sure he could emulate that emotion anymore, but it was far too personal for his liking, even with the few partners he’s had in his life he’s never crested beyond that, purposeful in his abhorrence distaste of kids or the possibility of, but you have him completely under your spell and he shakes his head.

“S’just you—wouldn’t want it to be anyone but you.” You assure him, his expression softening as your thumb trails along his bottom lip, eyes locked on his own as his thrusts stuttering through his own orgasm, face pinching at his brow, your breathy moans guiding him through as he pumps your pussy full, feel the warmth seep down as he eventually pulls out, his cum sliding down the inside of your thighs.

“Get in the car,” Joel instructs as he tries to catch his breath.

His silence on the ride home is deafening.

–

Joel is more stoic and pensive over the following weeks—spring is always harder on the business, or so he says, and selling overseas picks up quicker, it wasn’t something they could explain but it was a constant trend; high demand, high reward. It was quite stressful, really.

So stressful that eventually things are beginning to run thin and you become the source of stress relief for both of them—in different ways, but nonetheless.

Tommy would rather cuddle up with you on the couch while you lull him to sleep with your magic fingers, dragging through his hair—it was gentle caresses and quiet conversation that he found comfort in, but Joel was always unpredictable.

Sometimes it was just sharing a meal—his weird obsession with feeding you; providing, in a way? You couldn’t make sense of it, but it never made you feel uncomfortable.

“Have you ever gotten a bad batch?”

“We’re careful,” Joel reminds you, “It’s why we test all of ‘em before we go through the process.”

“Is that why you sent me?”

“Do you want an honest answer?”

You stare at him blankly, waiting.

“Yeah—we had to make sure you’re clean.”

“But now?” You push, your tongue pressing against the underside of the fork as he brings it to your lips.

“I trust you,” Joel admits, “You’ve kept up your end of the deal.”

It was conversations like this that led to Joel’s affinity toward you, a drunken night several weeks later leading you both outside after Tommy had already fallen asleep, walking backwards as your fists curled into Joel’s shirt as his hand cupped your head, licking into your mouth as he unintentionally led you toward the barn door, both of you separating as your back hit the creaking wood.

You pull apart, peering curiously over your shoulder and attempting to look through the cracks, awaiting Joel’s reprimand that never comes. 

“You wanna see inside?” He asks curiously.

“You’re fucking with me—”

“It’s a yes or no, darlin’.”

“Yes—yesyes, I do.” You spit out quickly, curiosity getting the best of you as he fishes his keys out of his pocket and snakes it into the lock, unlocking and prying the door open, met with full and complete darkness as he leads you inside, his chest close at your back.

He reaches blindly for the lights out of memory and you’re engulfed in the blaring lights of a spotless room—almost like a medical office with the array of equipment lining the walls and the long embedded tables, something reminiscent of what you would see at a mortuary for draining bodies and embalming, probably to help with the mess.

You sniff slightly, curious about the lack of smell as the door closes.

“That’s partly the animals, but we dispose of some of the shit the pigs can’t eat out behind the barn.”

“Like what?” You stare at him incredulously, eyes wide.

“Clothes, shoes—s’why we have the barrels burning every couple weeks when the stench gets too bad.” He spots your itch to explore, that glistening curiosity in your eyes as you relax at his answer, “Go on, look ‘round.”

You’re not ignorant to the absence of bodies—it was confusing to see a place so clean come from a man who always left work looking like he had brought half of it home with him.

There’s an array of knives and confusing cutting devices that you trail your fingers along, a bonesaw lying against the table lining the shelves, a stack of papers with faces and names, various info that you took a glancing look at, attempting to avoid the idea of putting names to faces and treating the people as anything other than product—it was how Joel lived, as disconnected and separate from the ideas possible.

“Usually it’s messier in here,” Joel admits, your lips parting in a surprised gasp as he presses his lips to your neck, “—we can fix that, though.”

“Joel Miller,” You respond in a scandalized tone, “what exactly are you implying?”

“I’ve got a room upstairs,” Your eyes flick up, spotting the loft overhead—that would explain the long nights when you wouldn’t see him at all, his comfort with being more openly affectionate outside of sex has grown slowly, turning your head to face his over your shoulder as his gaze trails up in another silent question, “unless you’ve got another idea—m’just dyin’ to get inside of you, honey.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in faux thought, already knowing your answer as you were brimming with excitement, resisting the urge to drag him after you.

“Yeah?” You tease, his lips pressing against your soft, kissing you soundly.

“Yeah,” He responds against your mouth, a rare moment of calm, a sweet exchange before he’s chasing after you with a swift slap to your ass.

–

It was essentially an extension of his bedroom, cozy and homey, you find yourself stretching out on the rug rather than the couch, watching as he carefully kneeled to the floor, cursing his achy knees as you giggle, spreading your legs open to invite him in.

“The things you do for me,” You joke, slowly unbutton his flannel as he yanks you towards him, knees falling against his hips as his palms grip either side of your, his thumbs rubbing against the soft skin underneath your shirt, “careful—I might think you love me.”

“If that’s what you want,” Joel replies easily, stripping your shirt over your head as your breasts bounce free, removing your jeans with the same impatience before he’s immediately latching his lips onto your breasts and lazily trading off, biting teasingly into the skin as he looks up to gauge your reaction.

If Tommy notices Joel’s evidence that he leaves, he never says anything. Perhaps it was unspoken, maybe they’ve talked it out—it was information you weren’t privy to, but you didn’t question it. He could smell his brother all over you and he was dying to rid you of it, baring his teeth as he bit into the flesh of your breast, a satisfied hum coming from you in response.

“Do you want that?” Joel asks again, “To be loved—ain’t somethin’ you’ve felt much, is it?”

Quietly, you shake your head.

“Well, you’ve got my brother by the balls,” He chuckles knowingly, “I’m sure he’d marry you if you asked—I ain’t good with words, but I can show you—”

Curious, you watch as he stands, grabbing a sharpened knife off the end table before he’s returning to you, “Somethin’ my parents passed down to me—never used, just like lookin’ at it.”

“We’re not about to Romeo and Juliet ourselves, are we?” You joke lightly, half-serious.

Joel grins wide at that, a full belly laugh following as he slices his palm with a squint of pain before he’s allowing the blood to pool in his hand as beckons you forward with a finger. You rise on your palms and stare curiously before he’s directing his hand to your mouth, lips parting wordlessly as the deep crimson hits your tongue, eyes falling shut as you sucked at the wound.

You were so accustomed to the rich, irony taste that it isn’t even a surprise, moaning as the blood slides down your throat and his fingers curl, squeezing more blood out for you to consume before he’s sliding his hand over your mouth and down your chin, stopping against your chest as he smears it with blood, one-handed as he shrugs his flannel off and rips his shirt over his head, tearing the fabric apart in strips like butter, not a sign of struggle.

He ties the fabric around his wound before he’s wordlessly handing you the knife.

“My hand?” You ask curiously.

“S’up to you,” He admits—the wordless blood trade vowing his affection toward you.

It was something far deeper than love, you think. Devotion. Loyalty. 

“Wherever?” Your eyebrow raises as Joel seems to clock the moment the idea comes into your head, trailing the blade along the inside of your thigh, up your stomach, along your breasts.

Eventually the tip of the blade finds a spot against your inner thigh, Joel’s hand careful adjusting your placing as he speaks, “Careful, there’s an artery there,” Further down, you brave the initial sting and slice through the skin, watching as the blood rose to the surface and Joel quickly descends, knife clattering to the floor as he sucks the flesh between his lips, his tongue lapping against your skin.

It’s euphoric, the feeling. So intense you could descend into madness as Joel eagerly lapped up the blood, even as he pulled away going back for a second time, a third, rising with blood stained lips and the crimson liquid pooling on his tongue as he pulls you toward him, mixing the taste of his blood with your own as he kisses you, a messy exchange of fluids as you claw at his skin, rising to your knees to match him.

Silently, you work at his jeans, unbuttoning and pulling them down his lips alongside his underwear—Joel works them the rest of the way before you’re pulling the hand supporting him over you out from under him, straddling him into the rug as your cunt sat directly over his cock, feeling him grow harder underneath you, a sight to behold with blood dripping down the corner of his mouth.

“I want more,” You tell him honestly, his cock twitching at the words, reaching for the knife laying beside his head, “Can I have more?”

Joel nods wordlessly, slightly breathless.

It was a trading battle of surface wounds, just enough to spill blood but nothing deep enough to cause any damage—surely looking insane as you straddled him with a smile, blood-stained lips yearning for more. Joel has a drunken haze to his expression, committing the sight to memory as he squeezes at your hips, rutting his cock between your soaked folds.

“Enough,” He says softly, barely above a mumble as he tosses the knife aside, rolling you underneath him before he’s sliding home inside of you, a hand cradling the back of your head while the other gripped at your knee, pulling it high over his hip, near his chest as he thrusts into you, a controlled but needy pace that was followed by low, pitiful groans of pleasure.

You’d broken this man.

His head was buried in your neck, your hand trailing down his back as you squeeze into the flesh of his ass, the fingers off your opposite hand carding through his hair, pulling gently at his curls.

“Got so much of me inside you now,” He breathes into your skin, “fuck—I’d eat your right up, baby.”

Despite his obvious lifestyle, your laugh is careless and light.

“Greedy,” You note, “I’ve already given you a taste and you’re asking for more?”

He doesn’t respond, not really. His hips are sharp, forceful as his cock spears itself inside of you, rubbing against the sensitive spot inside of you, eyes fluttering shut as it overwhelms you.

“Take a bite,” You encourage him, “f’that’s what you want.”

A real one.

Enough to scar, to leave a permanent mark and reminder of him.

One, two—you didn’t care.

His teeth drag over your breasts, tongue trailing around your hardened nipple before he’s biting into the skin at the top of you breasts, a gasp ripping from your throat as your walls flutter around him, tightening at the pain that slowly transfers to pleasure, glancing down at the small gash and trail of teeth marks in your skin. 

He’s admiring, finger running over the wound before he’s rising on his knees, continuing the thrusts of his hips but slowing as he reaches for your hand, pulling you upright again.

“You–do you want me to?” You ask cautiously, feeling the blood from your wound trail down your chest, “Are you sure?”

“Ain’t never been sure ‘bout nothin’,” Joel admits, “but—this…yeah, I want it.”

It shouldn’t make you hesitate, but it doesn’t. He isn’t emotional or forceful—it was like a plea, disguised behind his facade of stoicness. He needed this devotion just as bad as you. He needed someone to put his own trust into.

When your teeth dig into his side, he hisses, his right hand cradling your head as the other curls tightly into a fist, your face pinching up as you bite beyond the first layer of flesh and taste the liquid against your tongue.

He pulls you away eventually, looking down at you with a newfound expression.

This was love—not the lust you were used to seeing.

The rest of the evening is quiet, his pace gentler before he brings you to a slow orgasm, coming inside of you nearly seconds after with a soft moan, persistent that the wounds needed to be cleaned immediately after a few moments of rest.

He tapes it away with a gentle care after cleaning and applying an ointment to fight away any possible infection, snorting at how fatherly it all seemed, even helping you situation your top back on.

“At least we spared the rug,” You break the silence, “guess you aren’t as messy as I thought.”

“Oh, I can be,” He assures you, noticing the scabbed up bit of your lip that had become victim when he’d bit into your, biting down to silence yourself. Just a small movement and the wound reopens, completely unintentional but he sucks the blood away from your bottom lip in a soothing gesture before he kisses you soundly.

You only hoped the bliss would last.

–

Eventually, the implosion comes. But, instead of gradual—it was all at once.

Tommy’s birthday was supposed to be a quiet affair, something at home, between the three of you, not having time to celebrate during the week on his actual birthday like you had planned—but eventually Tommy finds himself antsy and Joel senses your annoyance as he keeps finding excuses to slip away or cancel. He encourages Tommy to go off on his own, leaving you both sprawled out on his bed after a rousing round of sex that leaves you both sweaty and breathless, resting your arm against his chest as you stare at him, “What’s up with him lately?”

“He’s good at acting, isn’t he?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a reason he keeps to the books, you know—why I do my job alone.”

Your eyebrow raises in a silent effort to urge him to continue.

“When I’m angry, you’ll know—” That much was obvious, having been on the receiving end plenty, but Tommy—it was unnatural to see anything but his kind, bright smile.

“He’s my brother—but there’s plenty of shit you haven’t seen yet. And I think it’s unfair that he’s actin’ like things are normal, like he can keep that act up, but something’s gotta give—”

“So what, is he like…a psychopath or something?”

Joel’s silence is telling, jumping up from your spot as you settle on your knees.

“He’s a fucking psychopath?”

“No—no,” Joel excuses, your face contorting into a mix of confusion and amusement.

“You took a long time to answer that.”

“He has episodes—periods of time where he ain’t himself. I can’t explain it and my parents refused to take him to the doctor—you know, backwoods folk and all. If we had a problem we toughed it out.”

“So, he’s got anger issues?”

Joel shakes his head, lips pursed into a tight line.

“He’s killed a couple people—by accident.  Least, that’s what he calls it. Tried killing me a few times, too. I’ve always been good at talking him off that ledge, thankfully. M’not trying to turn you against him but I’ve grown up around him, I know how to handle it.”

It was a lot of information to consume at once, still naked in Joel’s sheets as you adjust to sit more comfortably, a small peek at the scar near his ribcage as the sheets shift down.

“He’s lucky we do what we do—he’d probably be in jail otherwise, I’m just telling you because—“

“If it came down to me and him, you’d choose him.”

Joel pauses, his face softened as his lips downturn.

“It’s okay,” You shrug, “Let’s just hope it never comes to that.”

Truthfully, Joel wasn’t sure anymore.

After years with Tommy, he’d grown tired. It was exhausting, fighting between the battling personalities that lived within his brother.

“C’mere,” He beckons, your nose scrunching up as you grin, fitting your face between his waiting hands as he pulls you back over him, kissing you slowly.

A gentle calm before the storm.

–

The arguing is what wakes you first, not the roar of the truck, voices trailing toward the barn.

The bed is empty too, not a single remnant of Joel in sight.

But, you hear him. Loud, angry.

By the time you’re outside the barn is already closed, illuminated by the light inside as you pry the heavy door open, several underdressed with only a shirt to cover the underwear clinging tight to your skin, bare feet digging into the dirt as your feet scuff against the cement and the door falls shut behind you.

“She doesn’t need to know, Joel!” Tommy’s voice cracks, a slight slur to his speech.

He’s drunk, clearly.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Tommy—one night and you pull this shit? It’s exactly why dad had a tight leash on your ass for so many years—”

“Need to know what?” You ask suddenly, breaking through the tension as your head peeks around the corner, both of their heads whipping toward you, Joel moving subtly to block the body that you spot on the table, eyes widening. 

It had always been something you and Joel had managed together—Tommy had never shown an interest, didn’t seem to care, but this…

“I’m just tryin’ to carry my weight ‘round here—is that why you like him more?” Tommy asks suddenly, his eyes glazed over and dark as you step forward.

“I invite you into our home—give you a place to stay. I—I stuck up for you when he wanted to throw you out and you chose him? My own fuckin’ brother?”

“He’s drunk,” Joel states blankly, almost dismissive of his rant.

“No—no, let’s show it off, Joel.”

Tommy comes at you with a knife, slicing it down the middle of your shirt as you struggle against him, ripping the fabric away and showing off the healing scar on your chest.

“What happened to no attachments, Joel? No baggage?”

As Joel moves toward Tommy to remove the knife, he lunges at Joel and pushes him out of the way, leaving you with a clear view of the woman laying on the table, an eerie resemblance to yourself as your eyes widen, stepping toward the table as you glance over the body—unmoving, still. She was already too far gone, with no signs of what Tommy had actually done to her.

Your head snaps up at the brawling brothers, screaming for the attention to break through their rage, Joel burying his knee into Tommy’s back to subdue him.

“Why her?” You ask him—Tommy, looking directly at him as you point to the lifeless body.

“Get the fuck off me—” He argues through gritted teeth, attempting to shake his brother off him.

“Why—her?” You stress again, walking forward to crouch in front of him, uncaring of how your body was bared to him in your vulnerability.

“Thought I could give Joel his own version of you to play with—but she wasn’t cooperating. That what you wanna hear? I had you first—motherfucker won’t let me have a single thing to myself.”

“Let him up,” You instruct Joel, backing away slightly.

As Tommy stands, you approach him, his face tight and unrecognizable. 

He reeked of alcohol and sweat, a stench of something else that made the bile in your stomach rise, “I never chose, you both had me. You would continue to have me, but this—Tommy—”

“Don’t fuckin’ lecture me, not you,” He bites.

You stare at him with a growing sadness, “You’re drunk—really, really drunk. You’re gonna sleep this off and you’ll regret everything you’re saying right now, I know it. I know you.”

Something seems to snap in Tommy—attempting to rip away from Joel as you scramble toward the floor.

Tommy gets a solid right hook in, something that, if any normal person would have delivered would have left Joel unphased, but Tommy had his advantages, similar in size and stature to Joel, it was barely a fight as Joel dropped to the ground, hitting hard enough that both of you freeze, a slow ring of blood pooling from his head as your chest clinches in a mix of anger and resentment, but your body flinging into flight mode, fleeing while Tommy has distracted by the possibility that he killed his own brother.

Unfamiliar with the place you scramble to hide, unsure if running off would help after your last try, squeezing into a closet buried in the back corner behind a pile of yard tools and mowers, watching as Tommy dropped to the ground.

You could hear him mumbling to himself—a mix of self-assuring words and back and forth conversation, as if someone was responding to every word he offered.

“He’s dead—yeah I killed him,” He mumbles, “if I—if I chop him up, chop her up. Fuck,” His head whips over his shoulder, realizing you were gone, “gotta find her—but Joel, deal with him first.”

Your eyes widen at the firsthand witnessing of exactly what Joel had admitted to you—like some kind of bad omen of what was to come, you sunk down into the darkness and hide yourself away, watching as Tommy roamed around for tools, not a moment of hesitation as he intended to follow through on his plans with Joel’s lifeless body awaiting it’s demise.

It feels wrong, tossing a bone saw aside carelessly as he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, flailing tools around wildly, a knife clattering so far away that it lands near your feet, small enough to wrap your fist around as you grab it quietly, awaiting Tommy’s approach to Joel.

Sometimes takes over, not entirely yourself as you crawl from the spot you were hidden in and lunge at Tommy, planting the knife between his shoulder blades as pressed the blade against his own brother’s neck, his blood curdling scream ripping through the barn as he dropped to his knees.

“You bitch,” He groans, shouting out in pain as you remove the knife and sink into his spine, a few seconds of struggle before he slumps to the ground, his eyes dragging toward your shaking frame, bloodied hands rubbing your hair away from your face as you stare down at Tommy’s face, his lips parting as he gasped for air but instead find blood dripping from his mouth.

You drop to your knees, the air stolen from your own lungs but for different reasons.

Both of them dead, within a matter of minutes and it was all your fault.

“Fuck, fuck–” You cry, slamming your fist into cement, but quickly startled by the rousing beside Tommy, almost blaming it on a break in your psyche before Joel is mumbling your name, pressing his fingers into his temple as blood coats his fingers, a sizeable gash on the side of his head as he sits, slowly picking apart the sight before him.

“Oh, honey—what did you do?” Joel asks, glancing down at Tommy’s lifeless body and up at you—surprisingly, there wasn’t an ounce of anger.

“He thought—he thought you were dead, he had a knife at your throat,” You rambled in a panic, “He kept saying he was going to chop you up—chop me up. I don’t know, I fucking panicked.”

Joel remains wordless, staring into the deep abyss of blood pooling on the floor.

“I’m so—I’m sorry. I’m,” The emotion is like a tidal wave, “Joel—I panicked. I swear—”

Joel grimaces against the sharp sting of pain as he reaches for your face, his blood covered hand pressing against your face, fingertips wrapping around the back of your head as he forces you to lock eyes with him.

“Look at me,” He demands, waiting until your eyes lock on him, “This is the part where you promise—and I mean promise, that you won’t fuckin’ run off.”

“No—never. Never, not,” You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut to blink away the thick tears, “Never again, Joel. I promise.”

“We handle this together,” He explains, “I’ll protect you but you have to say it.”

“Anything,” You nod, leaning forward on your hands to move closer to him.

“Say you’re loyal to me—that you’ll listen and do whatever I ask, without question.”

“I am—I am. Joel, I’m loyal to you. I love—I love you. I need you to know that.”

Joel sighs, head bowing.

“I would have chosen you over him. I couldn’t admit that to myself earlier, but I’m telling you now. Tommy’s always been a manipulator, I tried warnin’ you. Months ago.”

You ain’t the first, you won’t be the last.

“I won’t run. I promise, Joel.” You assure him, because with Joel you felt that protection.

A silence falls before you speak again.

“What happens now?”

“You follow my lead, that’s all I need.”

[fanbasetwo]

Ꮺ . , CUZ YOU’RE MY HYPE BOY , L.CY !

PAIRING: bf ! anton × gf ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: never in your wildest dreams had you dreampt of leaking at the wrong time but here you were, trying to hide the stain your period blood left on your bf's sheets—will you succeed? [REQUESTED] . . . . . . GENRE: fluff, fic, period talk & mentions of pain and blood obvio. WORD COUNT: 1.6k [LIBRARY] ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 sena’s note — this was such a cute fic to write, thank you to the anon who requested, ily <3

You wake up to a sharp, familiar ache in your stomach, and a groan slips out before you can stop it. The cramps are bad—bad enough to make you regret spending the night at Anton’s apartment. You weren’t planning on staying over, but it was late, and Anton, being the gentleman he is, insisted you shouldn’t walk home alone.

Now, though, you wish you’d just gone home. Because as the pain twists in your lower stomach, you have an awful realization.

Carefully, you lift the blanket and glance down, your heart dropping. There, on Anton’s spotless, white sheets, is a visible red stain.

Your period.

For a moment, you just stare at it, horrified, your cheeks burning. How could you forget it was coming? And of course, it had to happen here, of all places. Your hormones are already making you emotional, and now panic kicks in full force.

Anton is still fast asleep behind you, his soft breathing the only sound in the room. You glance back at him, guilt and embarrassment tangling in your chest. He looks so peaceful, completely unaware of the mess you’ve made.

Your mind races. What is he going to think? Will he be mad about his sheets? Annoyed that you’ve ruined his morning?

And yet, a small voice in your head reminds you of who Anton is—the same Anton who stayed up late helping you pick out groceries, who insisted on carrying your bag even though it wasn’t that heavy. He’d never yell at you. Right?

Still, you can’t shake the nerves. You’ve worked so hard to keep a good image in front of him—always put-together, always in control. And now this? How are you supposed to explain it?

Taking a deep breath, you sit up slowly, wincing as another cramp hits. You’ll have to handle this before he wakes up. You just hope he’ll understand if he finds out.

You’re so lost in your panicked thoughts that you don’t even notice Anton stirring behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, but you immediately squirm out of his grip.

Anton blinks, rubbing his eyes with a sleepy confusion. The sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and the soft morning light barely fills the room. His brows furrow as he sits up slightly, his voice gentle and laced with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You open your mouth, intending to brush it off, to say nothing, but the words catch in your throat. His gaze is too soft, too worried, and for a second, you freeze.

But Anton isn’t as clueless as you hoped he’d be. He pauses, his nose twitching slightly, his expression shifting. There’s something about the smell—unmistakably off. Not that he knows exactly what period blood smells like, but it’s… different. And it’s coming from you.

Before he can say anything, another gush of blood makes your stomach twist, and you bolt from the bed, rushing toward the bathroom. Your heart is pounding as you shut the door behind you, barely holding back tears as you glance down. Your underwear and pants are already worse than before, and the humiliation hits harder than the cramps.

You lean against the bathroom counter, trying to steady your breathing, but all you can think is: How am I going to face him now?

Anton isn’t confused—he’s just worried. The moment you shut the bathroom door, he glances down at the bed and notices the fresh red stain on his pristine white sheets. He doesn’t hesitate. Getting out of bed, he approaches the bathroom door, softly knocking as he hears the faint sound of your sobs.

“Baby, talk to me. Do you need anything?” His voice is gentle, filled with concern.

You try to keep it together, forcing out a shaky, “I’m fine,” from behind the door.

But Anton isn’t buying it. After a brief pause, he knocks again, his voice a little quieter this time. “I… I kept a packet of pads in my drawer. You know, just in case… so… you can…”

He trails off awkwardly, and you can easily picture him standing outside the door, scratching the back of his neck, trying to give you space but wanting to help.

You wipe at the tear slipping down your cheek, your embarrassment still overwhelming. “Do you… have them right now?” you ask hesitantly, your voice small.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath. “I’ll open the door. Oh gosh, this is so embarrassing.”

You crack the door open just enough to let him hand the pad through. Anton doesn’t try to look inside, and you snatch it quickly before shutting the door again. But as you glance down at your ruined underwear and pants, another wave of frustration and helplessness washes over you.

“Um…” you mutter, hesitating before you call out again, your voice shaky. “My panties and pants… they…” You trail off, staring at the bloody mess.

You groan, more to yourself than to him. “Why does it have to be me? God!” The urge to yell is overwhelming, but before you can spiral further, Anton knocks again, his voice soft but steady.

“Here,” he says, slipping a pair of boxers and shorts under the door. “They’re mine, but, um, the boxers are an old pair—probably a little smaller, so they might fit okay. And the shorts are loose, so…”

You stare at the clothes, his thoughtfulness surprising you. He adds quickly, “Oh, I put the blanket in the wash. Don’t worry about it. And… if you want me to, I could wash your panties and pants too—”

“PLEASE NO!” you blurt out, horrified. “IT’S DISGUSTING, EVEN FOR ME!”

Anton flinches on the other side of the door, your sudden outburst making him fall silent. “Okay,” he mumbles, his tone a little sheepish, before retreating to give you space.

As you get yourself cleaned up, you can’t help but replay everything in your mind, the humiliation bubbling up again. But underneath the embarrassment, a tiny flicker of gratitude lingers. Anton may have seen more of you than you’d ever intended, but his calm, gentle way of handling it makes you feel just a little less alone.

You’re not sure how much time has passed as you stand in the bathroom, rinsing the blood from your panties and pants. You know you’ll eventually need to properly wash them later—leaving them would just make the smell worse. The memory of an old, similar experience leaves you determined to clean up the mess as best as you can now, even though the situation still feels mortifying.

After finishing, you take a deep breath, shoulders slumping as you step out of the bathroom. Your hands are thoroughly washed, but guilt still weighs heavy on you. You can’t help but feel like you’ve ruined Anton’s peaceful holiday morning with this mess.

Always causing trouble, you scold yourself internally.

But the soft, refreshing smell of lavender in the air pulls you out of your spiral. Glancing around, you spot the faint flicker of a lavender-scented candle melt on the nightstand. He must have lit it to make sure you didn’t feel self-conscious about any lingering smells.

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming where shame had been moments ago. Why was Anton so thoughtful? So gentle? You couldn’t help but fall for him a little more.

“Baby,” his voice calls from the other room, breaking your thoughts. You turn, finding him standing near the bed with two plates in his hands. “I made us both—woah.”

His jaw drops slightly, and you follow his gaze, realizing you’re still wearing his shorts and boxers. They’re a bit oversized, sitting loosely on your frame, and suddenly you feel self-conscious.

“What’s that?” you blurt, quickly trying to divert his attention. Your eyes land on the plates in his hands.

“Oh, this?” He holds them up slightly, a sheepish grin on his face. “I cooked for us… since you’re on your… ehm, periods.” His cheeks flush slightly as he finishes, his voice awkward but endearing. It’s clear this is all new to him, and you realize—you’re his first girlfriend, and this is probably the first time he’s ever dealt with something like this.

You blink in surprise, glancing at the plates again. Eggs, fully cooked, sit neatly on them. It’s not perfect, but it’s not runny either. You know how much Anton struggles to cook, so this feels like a small miracle.

The realization of everything he’s done for you hits hard. He didn’t just stop at replacing the sheets or lighting the candle—he even attempted cooking despite his lack of skill.

Your chest swells with emotion, and before you can stop yourself, you wrap your arms around him. Anton flinches slightly, caught off guard with both plates still in his hands. You bury your face in his chest, mumbling, “You don’t think I’m weird?”

Anton tilts his head, the corners of his lips twitching into a small, innocent smile. “I just think you’re fertile.”

The sheer absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, even as a tear slips down your cheek. He’s so clueless yet so sincere that it’s impossible to stay embarrassed.

You pull back, wiping the tear away as he teased, “I love you, but I’d appreciate it more if you forget the stain and instead praise this chef.”

Anton smirks, watching as you plant a soft peck on his lips. He doesn’t even get the chance to pull you closer, both hands still occupied with the plates. The warmth of his love and efforts almost makes you forget the dull ache in your stomach.

Even if your cramps are still there, maybe surviving this morning with your boyfriend’s cooking and his genuine care will be enough to make the pain feel a little less overwhelming—even if his cooking turns out to be a bit of a disaster.

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© fanbasetwo | tumblr

[rosyblooom]

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

view all 3,958 comments

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

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yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username ly girl🫶

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scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n 🥳🥳

username if my man ain't like charles i don't want him

username real

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

view all 2,483 comments

yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

username queen🫶

username 27 and still looks young af iktr! see what happens when u're unproblematic😌

username that's bc 27 IS young lol

charles_leclerc belle👸

yourusername 😘 username you guys are so cute omg username *cries in 29 and single*🤧

username girl drop the link to the dress RIGHT NOW @/yourusername

yourusername it's from my spring collection love! xx username you ate that y/n😌

iamrebeccad you look so pretty 💗

yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

views all 18,045 comments

username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

username I think bc she's so young she probably doesn't even understand what's going on😭💔

username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

liked by username, username, username and 594,752 others

scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

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8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

liked by username, username, username and 14,296 others

f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

view all 2,068 comments

username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

[sterredem]

Real love

Franco colapinto x reader

Face claim random girls from Pinterest

Summary Their relationship through Y/n’ instagram

Warning Bad Spanish cuz google translate, spelling mistakes, not proofread

A/N a bit of a short but sweet one (you get it? No…? Okayyy) but I like it. This is kind of a filler but I wanted to post smth I will now try and work on writing ones instead of smau so if you want pls send requests!! I will do a soulmate au but still need to figure out with who and I will finnaly finish the You fic! Iykyk

Also first Franco fic! So lmk what you think!!

Instagram

Liked by bsfuser and 214 others

Yourusername what a life

View all 45 comments

Bsfuser What a life indeed

Friend1 Cutie

Friend2 Jealous of u

Sisteruser I wasn’t invited??

Yourusername never

Brotheruser pls tell franco I miss him

Yourusername no

FrancoColpamtino miss you 2

Friend3 When will I se you againnnnn

Yourusername soon I promiseee

Francopriv espléndida

Yourusername ❤️🫶

Randomuser4 huh…!????!!

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Instgram

Liked by FrancoColapinto and 231 others

Yourusername POV: Franco stealing my phone

View all 50 comments

Bfsuser we look cute

Yourusername yeah we do

FrancoColapinto glad to be of service

Yourusername always happy with it

Friend5 that are a lot of books

Classmate So THAT is what you do in your free time…

Random6 Franco??? As in F1 driver…?? Wth is going on?!?!

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Instagram

Liked by Alexalbon and 1.725 others

Yourusername we went outside for once

View all 32 comments

Friend7 FINALLY!!

Bsfuser What a cutie

Francopriv I have a girlfriend

Bsfuser wasn’t talking about you

Alexalbon ?????????

Lillymhe ???!!! -Alex

Random8 FRANCO??

Francopriv It really is once in a lifetime time

Friend9 is this what real love looks like?

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Instagram

Liked by Lillymhe and 2.835 others

Yourusername Went to my 1st F1 race /w Franco!! What an amazing time!!

View all 42 comments

Lillymhe It was really great meeting you!

Yourusername So true! We should hang out soon! Liked by Lillymhe

FrancoColapinto You should come more often. Your like my lucky charms

Yourusername If it pleases you I will be there 🙇‍♀️

Bsfuser Awwwww

Random10 Sooo….. Francis gf??

User11 OMG!! I FOUND HER!!

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Twitter

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Instagram

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Instagram

Liked by Willimasracing and 8.925 others

Yourusername A day in the life of a WAG (wth??) a student at university with an art, English AND music major. Also…. Hi?👋 lots of new people here

View all 274 comments

Bsfuser does it feel strange that you can’t comment on every comment?

Yourusername it does

User12 Talented girl!!

Friend3 I’m in there!!

Bandmate4 Lots of jobs, busy girl

FrancoColapinto Another think for the resume!

Yourusername Thanks to you cutie

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by FrancoColapinto and 9.724 others

Yourusername life rn ig

View all 364 comments

User13 soooooo jealous of u ur Like gorgeous, smart, talented AND have an amazing bf?? What can’t you do/don’t have??

Yourusername You are also amazing!! Ily!

User13 Another thing to the list: SO FRIKING KIND!!!

Yourusername mwuah 💋

Bsfuser When do I get to go to one of the races????

Yourusername soon my love

Lillymhe miss youuu

Yourusername miss you moreeee

FrancoColapinto Ig??

Yourusername yeah….

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[rueclfer]

smau request- maaaybe tomura trying to convince reader to wake up and hang with him super late bc he’s def a night owl & they end up staying up until sunrise; flirtation & heavy petting etc as we love to see it

i wrote this at 2am my brain is fried but waow loser/slightly more confident shiggy ily+ enjoy this mix of written and smau <3

twilight zone // tomura shigaraki

"oh my fucking god, knock much?" tomura exclaims, spinning around towards you in his swivel chair.

"shut up." you yawn, rubbing your eyes away from the bright PC screen illuminating the room. "like you weren't expecting me or something."

from his desk, tomura watches you click the door behind you and crawl into his bed. you pull the comforter up to your chin and nestle into his mattress as if he was the one that intruded on you in his own bedroom.

"wasn't half-sure if you were even going to come." he murmurs before shutting down his PC, diminishing the only light source in the room.

you feel the bed shift beside you as he stiffly lays down. "might as well light some candles too while you're at it." you tease.

despite how groggy you sounded, tomura could hear you signature smirk in your voice- the one that never failed to irritate the fuck out of him. he hadn't thought this far ahead- wasn't even expecting you to respond to him this late at all. all he could think about was how quick his late-night confidence was dwindling into nothing, making him squirm a bit in his own bed.

"i'd prefer to not have to look at your face." he mutters.

owch.

you don't respond. the exhaustion was ready to take over once your head hit the pillow. you think about the last time you had been in his bed like this.

it was about a month ago when you found yourself too drunk to even form a cohesive sentence. he didn't understand what you were blabbering about, but once he saw your swollen lips, flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and handle of whiskey under your arm, he just assumed the worst.

you were drunk, touch starved, and desperate, but of course he knew better than to let you sloppily smash your lips into his like you intended two when you stumbled into his doorway. he spent that night half asleep in his gaming chair, periodically reaching over to make sure you were still breathing with his trash can pulled up next to your side of the bed.

once you sobered up the next day, he scolded you. relentlessly. strings of obscenities dripping from his mouth.

from that point on, he made sure to always find a way to keep you two at bay- something that he himself wasn't even sure how to go about. elbow nudges. kicking your feet under the dining room table. laying your legs over his lap on the couch without you asking. pats on shoulder. all to make sure that night never repeated- unsure if he could handle you throwing yourself all over him again.

"are you fucking falling asleep?" you feel a jolt on your shoulder as he shakes you awake. "wake up."

"i'm tired." you whine.

"well stop. i didn't invite you here to sleep in my bed." he huffs.

"the fucks got you up, then?"

"nothing."

you go silent for a moment.

"don't be annoying or else i'll leave." you deadpan.

"don't ask stupid questions then." he returns the attitude. "isn't it obvious? i can't sleep. can't even game right now. i just want to..." he voice falters at the end.

"...hang out with you, i guess."

oh.

your jaw slightly gapes open in surprise, spikes of heat crawling up your neck.

you tightly grip the fabric of the comforter. "well, when you say it like that, it sounds like you actually like me." you chuckle.

"didn't say that. we live together. bothering you is my only option."

"lucky you, i love when you bother me." you scoot closer, noses onto a few inches away from one another. "and even more when i bother you."

"yeah, i know. it's like you can't resist me or something." he pulls the comforter up over his mouth, shyly muffling his words.

"i should be thanking you then, right? thank you so much, tomu, for letting me lay in your bed with you. please. i want you. i need you. it's all i can think about when i'm just across the hall from you. " you roll your eyes.

he scoffs. "wouldn't be the first time you were pathetically begging for me either."

"as if." you spit. "i'd never."

"but you have."

a beat of silence passes. you press your lips together as hotness comes over your body while the events of that night surges back to you.

"you said you'd never bring that up again." you clench your teeth, cringing at the memory of tomura retelling that night's endeavors to you the morning after.

"needed to humble you a bit." he chuckles. "told you it's not a big deal though if you're still embarrassed about it."

"no shit, i'm still embarrassed." you tug the covers up to your nose. "i tried getting at you and you rejected me. i'll never live that down, tomu."

tomura goes quiet for a moment. he must've been thinking. he does that often- retreat back into his head when he isn't sure about what else to say. or maybe he had finally fallen asleep.

you glanced over his shoulder to the analog clock sitting on his desk.

4:27AM.

it was late- or early. maybe these past few sleepless nights had finally caught up to him, hopefully to save you from having to relive an embarrassing moment.

to him, tomura's brain was malfunctioning. crashing. blue screen error.

"uh. wait." he begins, breaking the silence. "reject' isn't the right word. you were drunk. i just did what anyone else would have."

"call it what you want. i just wanted a smooch and you weren't with it. it's whatever, i'm over it, you heartbreaker." you dramatically sigh.

"well, i'll give you one now if it'll get you to shut up."

it was your turn to error and crash now.

"really?" your eyes widen.

tomura's breathing stops. he wasn't sure what gave him the confidence to say that outloud. maybe it was because he couldn't clearly see your face. it was almost like you weren't there- like he was speaking out into the void that made it so easy for those words to slip out.

he didn't mean it. right?

"yeah."

fuck.

"-if you want though." he quips.

please shut the fuck up.

"last month wasn't a rejection. i just didn't want you to only want me when you're drunk, you know."

stop talking.

"but you're sober now and we're talking about it and i just-"

your lips crash into his. it catches you off guard as much as it does to him. despite how much you enjoyed listening to him ramble out his nervousness, you couldn't risk losing another opportunity to kiss him.

your hands crawl up to the side of his neck, rubbing the tender skin below his jaw as you draw him closer to you. the floodgates have opened now. tomura met your lips with the same eagerness.

you were pressed up against one another, legs intertwined, sharing a breath and heartbeats as your hands glided over each other's bodies.

your stomach was twisting with anxiety. how long had you been waiting for this moment? all of those shy glances around the apartment, subtle touches, and hidden affections had clearly not gone unnoticed.

his hand runs from the nape of your neck to your lower back where he slips his hand under your shirt, causing you to pull away in surprise from the sudden contact.

"your hands are freezing, tomu." you gasped. "what the fuck?"

"sorry." he sheepishly mutters against your lips. he keeps his hand against the soft skin of your back, lightly rubbing the area as an apologetic gesture as it warms against your body.

"sorry." you repeat, humiliation starting to creep up your neck as you two settle with the realization of what line you two had just crossed.

a beat of silence passes.

"um. so." he coughs.

"so...yeah." you respond.

it wasn't long before you two started giggling to one another like a couple of children.

"shut up." you laugh, hiding your face into the pillow.

"guess i did say you coukd have anything you want if you came over." he breathlessly chuckles.

"please. shut. up." you squeak out. "i'm going to sleep. it's already like..." you peer over his shoulder. "almost 5:00AM, tomu. good fucking night."

you turn around, letting your back face him. you could die right now. melt into this mattress and into nothing. thank god it was dark and thank god he shared this humiliation with you.

he slings his arm around your waist, bringing himself flushed against your back.

"i'm not tired." he mumbles into the back of your neck, peppering kisses into the soft skin. "stay up with me."

you mentally kick yourself. because you do- not that there was much left of the night to get through, anyways, but because when the night's haze dissipates, you'll be dealt with a bigger issue that you wouldn't be able to pass off as a drunken mistake.

[viasdreams]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

texts with clingy/jealous jeno !!

request: could you make more jeno pls? 🥺🥺🥺 preferably jeno being clingy if u can 😓

a/n: a few ppl requested more clingy jeno so here yall go :3

heres the link to pt.1

thanks @strrykais for being my jeno ily :^^

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[honeyhae-svt]

I was up all night thinking about a wonwoo fic. Bunny hybrid x Wonwoo. it just fits wonwoo more cus like, he's a nerd, and a computer kind of guy, going to the dark internet just to explore some sht or for fun then he comes across a bunny hybrid for sale in the marketplace. Please notice. Ily and thankyou <3 (ps. i chose to request this to you cus i love your fics sm)

Lean On Me - 내게 기대

Jeon Wonwoo x F!Reader

genre / tags: fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, hybrid AU, bunny!reader x human!wonwoo, gentle dom!wonwoo, breeding Kink (mild undertones), cockwarming (i will never shut up about wonwoo cockwarming), aftercare, established feelings warnings: NSFW (18+ only): explicit smut, detailed descriptions of sexual acts, hybrid characteristics (reader has bunny ears, slight animalistic instincts), mentions of past mistreatment/trauma (handled with care), overstimulation, clingy/intimate dynamic due to reader’s heat cycle, emotional vulnerability during aftercare. smut warnings: fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration (piv), breeding kink implications (no pregnancy mentioned), cockwarming 9it's just so wonwoo), unprotected sex, sensual dominance from wonwoo, consensual and soft tone throughout. wc: 10,379 a/n: i think i've been writing wonwoo fics too much. i'm in love with jeonghan pls come back. (honestly, i love wonwoo sm too). DON'T LIKE DON"T READ please wtf this is animal play. seventeen taglist: @archivistworld <33 (no pressure, but if you want to be added on my taglists, there's a form i made (check my pinned post and click on "join taglist".) Preview: "Wonwoo’s fingers traced along the edge of your thigh, moving with a patience that made you ache even more. The heat within you pulsed stronger with every gentle touch, every whispered reassurance. ‘Wonwoo... please,’ you whimpered, burying your face in his chest as your tears soaked into his shirt. His voice was low, soothing, as he kissed the crown of your head. ‘I know, bunny. Let me take care of you.’ When his fingers slipped inside you, the relief was instant yet fleeting. The heat still burned, demanding more. And as his lips brushed against your own, you knew you were in safe hands, even as your instincts screamed for something primal.In the aftermath, with his shirt draped over you and his scent everywhere, you curled into his chest. Wonwoo's fingers lazily stroked your ears, his quiet promise lingering in the air. ‘I’ll keep you safe, always.’”

Wonwoo sat in the dim light of his apartment, the soft hum of his computer the only sound in the room. The clock on the wall ticked past 2 a.m., but sleep was the last thing on his mind. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the keyboard as he navigated a hidden marketplace on the dark web.

The site's interface was crude, with grainy images and glitchy text. He wasn't here for anything specific—this was just something he did when he was bored. It wasn't about breaking laws or finding trouble. For Wonwoo, the dark web was a rabbit hole of bizarre curiosities: forums about conspiracy theories, marketplaces selling counterfeit antiques, and coded discussions he'd never understand. Tonight, however, something caught his eye.

A new listing had appeared at the top of the page:

"Hybrid Companion for Sale - Limited Edition, One of a Kind."

The thumbnail image showed a woman, or at least, what looked like one. She had delicate bunny ears that drooped slightly, pale white skin, and wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to stare right through the screen. Her hair was soft and silvery, cascading over her shoulders like freshly fallen snow.

Wonwoo furrowed his brows, unsure whether to laugh or close the tab. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, leaning closer. It had to be a hoax, right? Some twisted art project or a desperate scam. But the listing's details were oddly... thorough:

"Bunny Hybrid #1438 Condition: New, untested. Perfect for companionship. Compliant and affectionate. Warning: For indoor use only. Price: 0.15 BTC (approx. ₩5,850,300 KRW - 4,000 USD) Delivery: Discreet, within 48 hours."

Wonwoo's skepticism grew. Untested? Indoor use? The phrasing felt clinical, like she was some kind of product. A chill ran down his spine, but curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked the listing.

The description expanded, revealing more photos. They showed her sitting on a minimalist chair in an empty white room, her ears twitching slightly. She wore a simple white dress, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The closer he looked, the harder it was to dismiss her as a mannequin or a clever CGI creation. She looked alive.

Wonwoo's hand hovered over the keyboard. This was insane. Why was he even considering this? But something about her expression in the photos stopped him. She didn't look scared or sad—just... empty, like she didn't know she was being sold.

"It's fake," he told himself. "It's probably fake."

But the listing had a countdown timer. "Auction closes in 10 minutes."

Before he knew it, Wonwoo had opened his crypto wallet. His fingers moved on autopilot, transferring the required amount to the provided address. The process felt surreal, like he was watching someone else make the decision for him. When the transaction confirmed, he stared at the screen, half expecting the site to crash or for the listing to disappear.

Instead, a message popped up: "Purchase Confirmed. Delivery instructions will follow shortly."

His stomach twisted. What had he just done?

Minutes later, an encrypted email arrived with a single line of text:

"Pick-up location: [Redacted]. Arrive at 11 p.m. tomorrow. Alone."

Wonwoo closed the laptop and pressed his palms against his face. This was either the biggest mistake of his life or the start of something he couldn't quite name.

The next night, Wonwoo pulled his hoodie tighter around himself as he approached the location—an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The air was damp, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. His heart raced, every instinct screaming at him to turn back.

Inside, the space was dimly lit, with a single crate in the center of the room. No guards, no people. Just the crate.

He approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The crate was wooden, with slats that allowed him to see inside. He crouched down, peering through the gaps.

You were there, curled up and motionless. Your bunny ears twitched slightly, the only sign you were alive. Up close, you looked even more delicate. Your pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the dim light, and your breathing was soft and steady. You wore the same white dress from the photos, now slightly crumpled.

Wonwoo swallowed hard, unsure of what to do. He tapped lightly on the crate.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up slowly, your gaze locking onto his. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, you tilted your head, your bunny ears perking up slightly as if studying him.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "I'm... Wonwoo."

You didn't respond, your expression unreadable. Slowly, you reached out, pressing your hand against the slats of the crate. Your fingers were slender, your nails neatly trimmed. Wonwoo hesitated before pressing his own hand against yours, the wood separating you.

"I'm here to take you home," he said, his voice soft.

You blinked, your ears twitching again. And for the first time, your lips parted.

"Home?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo sat on the couch, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You sat on the floor near the coffee table, your posture tense and ears twitching as you took in your new surroundings. You hadn't said much since leaving the warehouse, only responding with short nods or quiet murmurs when he asked if you were okay.

The silence was suffocating. Wonwoo cleared his throat. "Uh, are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. "Thirsty... what's that?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Thirsty. Like... do you want water?" He stood and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it from the tap. "Here."

You hesitated before taking the glass from his hands. Your fingers brushed his, and he noticed how cool your skin felt. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a tentative sip, your nose wrinkling slightly at the taste.

"It's... plain," you muttered, setting the glass down.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's just water. I guess you're not used to it."

You shrugged, your ears flicking forward. "I don't remember what I'm used to."

That caught him off guard. He crouched down to meet your gaze, his tone careful. "You don't remember anything? Not even where you came from?"

You shook your head, looking away. "Just... flashes. Bright lights. Voices. Nothing else."

Wonwoo frowned, a pang of guilt settling in his chest. Whatever you'd been through, it wasn't normal. He couldn't shake the feeling that you'd been treated more like an object than a person.

"Hey," he said gently, "you don't have to figure everything out right now. Just... take it one step at a time, okay?"

You looked back at him, your wide eyes softening slightly. "Why are you being nice to me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I felt like I couldn't just leave you there."

Your lips curled into the faintest smile, and for the first time, your shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, as Wonwoo set up a makeshift bed for you on the couch, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching him. He double-checked the locks on the windows and doors, his paranoia rising. It didn't make sense; no one had followed him, and the pickup had been clean.

"Wonwoo?" Your voice broke his train of thought.

He turned to see you standing by the couch, your bunny ears drooping slightly. "Yeah?"

"Are you... afraid of me?"

The question hit him like a truck. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "Because... they were. The people before you."

Wonwoo's stomach twisted. He approached you slowly, hands raised as if to reassure you. "I'm not afraid of you," he said firmly. "Whatever happened before, it's over. You're safe here."

You studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Okay."

But as you lay down on the couch and he retreated to his room, he couldn't shake the unease creeping over him. Something wasn't right.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Wonwoo lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. His thoughts kept circling back to you—your hesitance, your fragility, and the way your ears twitched slightly every time he spoke.

A soft creak pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his head toward the door, catching sight of your silhouette in the faint glow of the hallway light.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated before stepping further into the room. "I don't think I've ever slept on a couch before."

Wonwoo sat up, rubbing his face. "Oh. Sorry about that. I should've—"

"It's not bad," you interrupted, your voice soft. "It's just... quiet."

The words made his chest tighten. "Do you want to sit?" He patted the edge of the bed.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor before you shuffled closer, perching on the edge of the mattress. The tension in your shoulders was unmistakable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

You glanced at him, your ears twitching slightly. "Talk about what?"

"Whatever's on your mind."

A soft, humorless laugh escaped your lips. "You really want to hear it?"

He nodded, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. I do."

You sighed, your gaze fixed on your hands. "I don't know who I am. I don't know why I was there or what they wanted from me. All I know is... every time I think about going back, it feels like my chest is caving in."

Wonwoo's hands clenched into fists. He hated the thought of you being scared, of someone putting you in a position where fear was all you knew.

"You're not going back," he said firmly.

Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let it happen," he said, his voice steady. "I don't know how or why I ended up finding you, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you now that you're here."

The weight of his words hung in the air. Your ears lowered slightly, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of relief in your expression.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Without thinking, Wonwoo reached out, his hand brushing against yours. Your fingers twitched but didn't pull away. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental.

"You're not alone anymore," he murmured.

For the first time, the tight knot in your chest loosened.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up to the smell of burnt toast. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen.

There you were, standing by the toaster with a frown, a slightly charred piece of bread in your hand.

"Uh, what's going on?" he asked, stifling a laugh.

You turned, your cheeks flushing pink. "I thought I'd try to... cook. But it's harder than I thought."

He walked over, taking the toast from your hand. "You're supposed to set the timer, not just guess."

You crossed your arms, your nose scrunching in frustration. "Well, no one told me that."

Wonwoo couldn't hold back his laughter this time. The sound startled you, and before you knew it, you found yourself laughing too. It was small and hesitant at first, but then it grew, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you.

It was the first time he saw you smile.

And damn, it made his heart stutter.

After breakfast—well, what could be salvaged from your experimental cooking—Wonwoo sat across from you at the small dining table. He had insisted on making the second round of toast himself, and now the two of you sat in companionable silence, nibbling on toast and sipping coffee (or, in your case, a very sugary cup that he'd adjusted after seeing you gag at the first sip).

"So," Wonwoo said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Do you have a name?"

You froze mid-bite, your ears perking up. "A name?"

He nodded, his eyes soft. "Yeah. What do people call you? Or... did they call you anything?"

You frowned, the question pulling at a thread of memory that seemed just out of reach. "I... think it's Y/N," you said slowly, the name feeling both familiar and strange on your tongue.

"Y/N," Wonwoo repeated, testing it out. He smiled slightly. "It suits you."

A blush crept up your neck, and you quickly looked down at your plate. "It's just a name."

"It's your name," he corrected gently. "That makes it special."

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. No one had ever spoken to you like this—like you were a person, not a thing.

"But," he added, leaning back in his chair with a playful smirk, "I think I'll call you Bun instead."

"Bun?" You blinked, your nose wrinkling slightly.

"Yeah," he said, his smirk widening. "You've got bunny ears, and it's cute. Just like you."

Your ears twitched furiously at the compliment, and you couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "You can't just—say things like that."

"Why not?" he teased, his voice light. "It's true."

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the way your lips twitched upward. "Fine. Then I'm calling you Woo. See how you like it."

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Woo, huh? I think I can live with that."

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a genuine warmth blooming in your chest—a feeling you didn't quite know how to name.

That evening, the two of you ended up on the couch, a random movie playing in the background as Wonwoo showed you how to navigate the TV remote. You had leaned closer to him, your curiosity outweighing your usual cautiousness.

"And this button changes the volume," he explained, his voice low.

You nodded, your face scrunched in concentration as you tried it out. The sound of the TV grew louder, and you quickly pressed the button again to lower it, a triumphant smile lighting up your face.

"See? Easy," he said, his lips quirking up as he watched you.

You turned to him, your smile fading slightly as you realized how close you were. His face was only inches from yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.

"Woo?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. "I already told you. You deserve to feel safe."

"But why do you care so much?" you pressed, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe because you remind me that... not everything in this world is as cold as it seems. You're... different, Bun. And I want to protect that."

Your breath caught in your throat. No one had ever spoken to you like that—like you were something worth protecting, worth caring for.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the world had shifted.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo's hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "Just... stay. That's enough."

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had found a place where you truly belonged.

The night deepened, the warm glow of the living room casting soft shadows on the walls. Wonwoo had stepped into the kitchen to grab some water, leaving you curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders.

You tugged the fabric closer, your thoughts swirling. For the first time in forever, you didn't feel like you had to be on guard. You didn't have to hide or brace yourself for what might come next.

But that didn't stop the memories from creeping in.

"Bun?" Wonwoo's voice broke through the fog. He was standing in front of you now, holding out a glass of water. "You okay?"

You blinked, quickly nodding. "Y-Yeah."

He didn't look convinced. "You sure? You've been quiet for a while."

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. "I was just... thinking."

"About what?" he asked, sitting down beside you.

You swallowed hard, debating whether to tell him. But something in his gaze—steady, patient, understanding—made you feel like you could.

"It's about... me," you said slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What I am."

Wonwoo stayed quiet, giving you space to continue.

"I'm not like you," you said, your ears flattening against your head. "I don't just... exist like a normal person. There are... things about me—about my body—that I can't control."

He tilted his head slightly. "Like what?"

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with shame. "Like when I go into heat."

Wonwoo's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything, waiting for you to explain.

"It happens every few months," you continued, your voice trembling. "It's... painful. And if it's not treated, it gets worse. But..." You paused, your chest tightening.

"But?" he prompted gently.

Your voice broke as you said the next words. "But the people who used to 'treat' me... they didn't care about the pain. They only cared about using me for themselves."

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes—disgust, pity, or worse.

But when Wonwoo finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady. "That's not going to happen again."

You blinked, glancing up at him. "What?"

He shifted closer, his expression firm. "No one's ever going to hurt you like that again. I promise."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you quickly looked away. "You say that, but... what if it happens? What if I can't control it, and you—"

"Stop," he said, his tone gentle but firm. He reached out, his hand resting lightly on yours. "I'm not like them. I'd never take advantage of you."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. For the first time, you felt like someone saw you—not as an object or a tool, but as a person.

"Do you... do you really mean that?" you whispered.

He nodded. "Every word. And if you ever feel like it's too much, we'll figure it out together. On your terms."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now, the weight of his words breaking down the walls you had built around your heart.

Wonwoo reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. "Hey. It's okay. You're safe here, Bun."

For the first time, you believed him.

Wonwoo watched as you nodded off on the couch, your breathing evening out, though your grip on the blanket was still tight. Even in your sleep, it seemed like you were holding onto years of fear and mistrust.

He sighed softly, standing to grab the glass you'd left on the coffee table. The sound of his footsteps was faint, careful not to wake you as he moved to the kitchen.

It wasn't like him to get involved in something so... complicated. He usually preferred simplicity—quiet evenings alone, a book in hand, the hum of his PC in the background. He didn't go out of his way for people, not because he didn't care, but because people rarely gave him a reason to.

But you? You were different.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he stared at the glass. There was something about you that tugged at his attention, something beyond the strangeness of finding you on a marketplace. You were guarded but vulnerable, sharp but soft. It made him want to protect you, even if he wasn't sure why.

When he returned to the living room, you were awake, your wide eyes watching him from beneath the blanket.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice low.

You shook your head, your ears twitching slightly. "No. I just... I couldn't sleep."

He sat down on the armchair across from you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Something on your mind?"

You hesitated, your fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. "It's just... strange," you admitted. "Being here. With you."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I'm not used to this," you said quietly. "Not used to... feeling safe."

Wonwoo's gaze softened, though his expression remained neutral. "You don't have to get used to it all at once," he said after a moment. "Take your time."

Your lips parted slightly, surprised by his words. Most people didn't give you time—they expected things from you, demanded things you weren't ready to give. But Wonwoo? He was different.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know. Maybe I just like rabbits."

A small, breathless laugh escaped you, and his lips quirked into a faint smile.

"I mean it," you said, your tone soft but insistent. "You don't even know me."

"You don't know me either," he pointed out. "Maybe I'm just trying to get on your good side so you don't eat all my snacks."

You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. "I don't think that's how this works."

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Maybe not. But if it makes you laugh, I'll take it."

For a moment, the room was quiet again, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence you were used to. It was... comfortable.

"Wonwoo?" you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely audible.

He didn't respond right away, his gaze steady as he looked at you. Then, with a small nod, he said, "You don't have to thank me, Bun. Just get some rest."

You smiled faintly, your heart feeling a little lighter as you settled back into the couch.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. You stirred awake, stretching slightly under the blanket. Wonwoo was already up, sitting at the dining table with his laptop open, headphones on, and a cup of coffee in hand.

His attention was glued to the screen, his expression calm but focused. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange sense of peace.

"You're up early," you said, your voice soft.

He glanced over at you, pulling one side of his headphones off. "Couldn't sleep much," he replied. "Thought I'd get some work done. How about you? Did you sleep okay?"

You nodded, sitting up and clutching the blanket around you. "Better than I expected. Thanks for... everything."

He gave you a small nod before returning his attention to the screen.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you realized something: you hadn't had a proper bath in... well, you couldn't remember how long. Your ears twitched slightly at the thought, and you stood, glancing toward the hallway.

"Wonwoo?" you called hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he replied, not looking up.

"Where's the bathroom?"

He pointed down the hall without breaking his focus, but when you hesitated, he finally looked at you. "Everything okay?"

"I..." You fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, avoiding his gaze. "I don't really... know how to do it myself."

That caught his attention. He blinked at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "You don't know how to... take a bath?"

You shook your head, your cheeks warming. "I always had someone help me before," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you for a moment, processing your words. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. Come on."

"What?" You looked at him, wide-eyed.

"You said you need help, right?" He stood, closing his laptop. "Let's figure it out."

Your ears twitched nervously as you followed him down the hall, clutching the blanket tightly around you.

When he opened the bathroom door, you peeked inside. It was clean and simple, with a glass shower and a bathtub on one side. Wonwoo turned to you, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms. "What do you need me to do?"

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing. "I don't know... maybe just show me how it works?"

He nodded, stepping into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature and letting the water fill the tub. "It's pretty straightforward," he said. "You just..."

He trailed off when he noticed you still standing by the door, fidgeting nervously. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's just... a little overwhelming," you admitted. "I'm not used to doing things on my own."

He sighed again, softer this time. "Okay. Look, I'll help you get started, but you're going to have to trust me, alright?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

He grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and handed it to you. "Here. Wrap this around yourself and let me know when you're ready."

You stepped inside, closing the door halfway before wrapping the towel around you. "Okay," you called out nervously.

Wonwoo stepped back in, careful to keep his eyes on the faucet. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "You can sit on the edge of the tub for now. I'll show you how to use the showerhead and the soap."

You followed his instructions, perching on the edge as he adjusted the water. He handed you a bottle of soap, explaining how to lather it and rinse it off. His voice was steady, patient, and somehow soothing.

When you fumbled with the soap, he caught your hand gently, guiding you. "Like this," he said, his fingers warm against yours.

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat. For someone so quiet and reserved, he had a way of making you feel... safe.

"Got it?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. "Yeah... thanks, Wonwoo."

He gave you a small smile, standing up. "I'll give you some privacy now. If you need anything, just call me."

As he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, you couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter in your life wouldn't be so bad after all.

It started out small.

You didn't even notice it at first—just a faint, restless warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was subtle, ignorable even, as you moved through the rest of the day. Wonwoo had gone back to working on his laptop while you explored the apartment, your curiosity keeping you distracted for a while.

But as the hours dragged on, the warmth grew. It wasn't just in your stomach anymore; it spread through your chest, your arms, and your legs, like an itch just beneath your skin that you couldn't quite reach.

By evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the TV. But it was impossible. The sensation was overwhelming now, and your ears twitched uncontrollably as you fought to keep your breathing steady.

"Hey," Wonwoo's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed as he looked at you. "You okay?"

You didn't trust yourself to look at him. Your cheeks burned as you nodded quickly. "I'm fine," you mumbled, your voice tight.

He didn't look convinced. Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. "You don't look fine," he said. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, curling up tighter. "It's nothing," you insisted. "I just... need a minute."

But he didn't leave. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes scanning your face. "You're warm," he said, his voice soft but concerned. "Do you have a fever?"

You flinched as he reached out, his hand brushing against your forehead. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you jerked back, your ears flattening against your head.

"It's not a fever," you said quickly, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. "Then what is it?"

You hesitated, your cheeks burning as you tried to find the words. "I... I think it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Your heat?"

You nodded, burying your face in your hands. "It's normal for hybrids," you explained, your voice muffled. "It happens every few months. But I didn't think it would happen so soon..."

Wonwoo was silent for a moment, and you dared to peek at him through your fingers. He looked... surprisingly calm.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his voice steady.

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. You hadn't expected him to take it so seriously. "I don't know," you admitted. "It's usually... manageable. But it's worse when I'm alone."

He nodded, standing up and holding a hand out to you. "Come on," he said.

You stared at his hand, confused. "What?"

"You said it's worse when you're alone," he said simply. "So don't be alone."

Your cheeks burned as you hesitated, but eventually, you reached out and let him pull you to your feet. He led you to the couch and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

You sat down tentatively, your heart racing as the warmth in your chest seemed to grow even stronger. Wonwoo didn't say anything, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding.

"Better?" he asked after a moment.

You nodded, leaning into him slightly. "Yeah... a little."

As the evening went on, you found yourself growing more comfortable in his presence. The warmth was still there, but it was less overwhelming now, tempered by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle weight of his hand.

For the first time since the heat had started, you felt like you could breathe again.

Your whole body was burning. It wasn't just the heat in your stomach anymore—it was a desperate ache that throbbed with every passing second, pooling low in your core. You squirmed against the couch, trying to find some relief, but it only made it worse.

Wonwoo's hand was on your head, his fingers lazily stroking through the fur at the base of your ears. The slow, comforting rhythm sent shivers down your spine, but instead of soothing you, it only stoked the fire inside you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore it, trying to focus on anything else. But the longer you sat there, the harder it became. Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, your body instinctively searching for some kind of release.

Wonwoo noticed.

"You're fidgeting," he said quietly, his deep voice cutting through the haze in your mind. "Are you okay?"

You froze, your ears twitching at the sound of his voice. "I-I'm fine," you stammered, even though you weren't.

He didn't buy it. His hand moved from your ears to your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. His dark eyes searched yours, and the concern in his gaze made your heart ache.

"You're not fine," he said softly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You bit your lip, looking away. How could you possibly tell him? How could you explain this unbearable, shameful need that was consuming you?

"It's... it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's bad this time."

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, grounding you. "How bad?" he asked.

Your cheeks burned as you avoided his gaze. "It hurts," you murmured. "My body... it's aching. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Wonwoo was silent for a long moment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady, but there was an edge of something else—something you couldn't quite place.

"Have you ever... had anyone help you before?" he asked carefully.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the memory. "Other hybrids would help sometimes," you said. "But it was never... gentle. They only cared about... breeding."

His jaw tightened, his expression darkening slightly. "And the men?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

You hesitated, your ears flattening against your head. "They didn't care about me either," you admitted. "They just used me for their own pleasure."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken anger and something else—something softer, more tender.

"You deserve better," Wonwoo said finally, his voice firm. "You deserve to be cared for."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wonwoo..."

His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "If you'll let me," he said softly, "I want to take care of you."

Your breath caught in your throat. The heat in your body flared at his touch, but it wasn't just physical anymore. There was something deeper, something that made your chest ache just as much as your body did.

"Are you sure?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his dark eyes holding yours. "I want to help you," he said. "But only if you want me to."

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your cheeks burning. "Okay," you murmured.

Wonwoo's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. "Good," he said. "Just tell me if it's too much, okay?"

You nodded again, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Wonwoo's hand stayed on your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. His thumb grazed along your skin, grounding you even as your body trembled. The ache inside you was unbearable, but somehow, his presence made it a little easier to endure.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as if he could sense your nerves. "Just trust me."

You nodded, swallowing hard as his other hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. Your knees pressed into the couch on either side of him, and you felt his warmth radiating against you. It was overwhelming, but it wasn't bad. It was... comforting.

His fingers slid to your ears, brushing over them in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips, and his eyes darkened slightly at the sound.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice soft yet weighted.

You nodded, biting your lip as your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice shaky.

His lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're sensitive," he murmured, his fingers continuing to trace along your ears. "I'll be careful."

The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting—made your chest ache almost as much as your body burned.

"Wonwoo..." You didn't even know what you were asking for, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea.

"I know," he murmured. "I've got you."

His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him. Your forehead rested against his shoulder as his fingers traced small, soothing circles along your spine. It wasn't enough to stop the heat, but it was enough to make you feel safe.

Slowly, he tilted your chin up, his dark eyes searching yours. There was no rush, no impatience. Only warmth and care.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips brushed against yours—tentative at first, testing the waters. But when you leaned into him, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to hold you steady.

The heat in your body flared, but this time, it wasn't unbearable. It was electric, sparking to life with every touch, every movement.

His lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You couldn't stop the small, breathy noises that escaped you, and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Still okay?" he asked, his voice rougher now, laced with something deeper.

"Yes," you whispered, your fingers curling into his hair. "Please... don't stop."

He didn't. His hands explored your body with a gentleness you'd never experienced before, his touch careful and measured. He was patient, never rushing, always watching your reactions to make sure you were comfortable.

Your body moved instinctively against his, searching for relief, and he guided you through it, his voice a soothing constant in your ear.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. "I've got you. Just let go."

And for the first time, you did.

Wonwoo's gaze softened, his fingers gently retreating from your trembling body. He leaned closer, cupping your flushed face with his hand. "You're lying," he murmured, his deep voice steady yet filled with concern. "Your body's still burning up."

You avoided his eyes, embarrassed by how the heat in your core seemed to intensify again, worse than before. It wasn't something you could control, and you hated feeling this vulnerable in front of him.

"It's... just how it is," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'll be fine. I don't want to bother you—"

"Stop that," he interrupted, his tone firm but still gentle. "You're not a bother, and I told you I'd take care of you."

His words made your chest tighten, a strange warmth blooming there, different from the feverish heat that raged through the rest of your body. You looked up at him, your ears twitching slightly as his thumb brushed over your cheek.

"But... I've never done this with anyone I trust," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "I don't know what to do."

Wonwoo's lips quirked into the faintest smile, his hand moving to gently stroke your ears again, as if to soothe you. "You don't have to do anything," he reassured you. "Just tell me what feels good, and I'll handle the rest. Okay?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your fingers clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back to meet your eyes. "Let's try to make this a little easier for you," he said, his hands moving to carefully lift you into his lap.

The shift in position sent a jolt of warmth through your body, and you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands settled on your waist, holding you securely as he whispered against your ear.

"Just relax," he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you."

His hands began to move again, trailing down your sides, his touch firm yet unhurried. The contrast of his cool fingers against your heated skin made you shiver, and a soft whimper escaped your lips as he dipped lower, tracing the curve of your thighs.

"Wonwoo..." His name left your lips in a breathy plea, and he responded with a low hum, his lips brushing against your temple.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice steady and comforting. "I've got you."

As his hands worked their way back to your aching core, you felt your body tense in anticipation, your breath hitching when his fingers slid between your folds once again. He was slow, deliberate, as if he was determined to learn exactly what made you feel good.

You couldn't stop the soft moans that spilled from your lips as his movements grew more confident, his thumb circling your clit in a way that made your entire body tremble. He watched you carefully, his dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and fascination, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you responded to his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said softly, his voice laced with something deeper, something that sent a shiver down your spine. "Don't hold back. Let me hear you."

His words broke through the last of your hesitation, and you let yourself fall into the sensation, your head tilting back as waves of pleasure rolled through you. But even as your body tensed and finally released, you could feel the heat building again, stronger than before.

You let out a shaky breath, your forehead resting against his shoulder as your ears drooped slightly. "Wonwoo... it's not stopping," you admitted, your voice trembling with frustration and embarrassment.

He tightened his hold on you, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. "Then we'll keep going," he said simply, his tone unwavering. "I'll stay with you until it's over."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. "You... you'd really do that for me?"

He smiled, the kind of soft, reassuring smile that made your heart ache. "Of course. I'd do anything for you."

The desperation in your voice, the way your trembling body clung to him—it was enough to make Wonwoo's self-control unravel. He brushed your tears away with a gentle hand, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for any hesitation. When he saw none, only the pleading desperation in your gaze, he nodded softly.

"You sure, bun?" he asked, his voice thick with restraint, but the nickname rolled off his tongue like honey.

You could only nod frantically, your hands gripping his arms. "Please," you whispered, the ache too unbearable to handle any longer.

Wonwoo moved carefully, lowering himself between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs apart. His fingers slid down to spread your folds again, his touch deliberate, making sure you were still ready for him. The sight of you, wet and needy, made him groan low in his throat, his cock straining against the last layer of fabric between you.

He pulled his underwear down in one swift motion, his length springing free. You gasped at the sheer size of him, the heat in your core only intensifying as you realized what was about to happen.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. The tip of his cock teased your slick folds, and you whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking instinctively.

The moment he started to push in, you moaned loudly, your body arching as the stretch sent a wave of pleasure and pain through you. He froze halfway, giving you time to adjust, his hand stroking your side in soothing circles.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and restraint. "Relax for me, bun. I don't want to hurt you."

His words melted into your ears, and you tried to relax, focusing on the way his hands steadied you. Slowly, he pushed in further, filling you inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You let out a breathy moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders as the overwhelming fullness consumed you.

"God, you're so tight," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. "So perfect."

The heat in you was relentless, but the way he stretched and filled you brought a strange sense of relief, as if he was the only thing that could soothe the ache. When he started to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, your body reacted instinctively, your hips lifting to meet his.

"Wonwoo... faster," you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure began to overshadow the pain.

He didn't hesitate, his thrusts growing faster and deeper, each one hitting a spot inside you that made you cry out his name. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room, along with your soft cries and his low, guttural groans.

"You're so good for me," he rasped, his lips finding your neck, kissing and biting softly as he pounded into you. "Taking me so well."

Your ears twitched at the praise, and your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Every movement, every thrust seemed to push you closer to the edge, the heat in your core intensifying until it felt like you might explode.

"Wonwoo, I—I'm close," you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as your body tensed beneath him.

He nodded, his pace quickening as he held you tighter, determined to bring you over the edge. "Let go, bun. I'm right here. Let go for me."

His words were all it took to push you over, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body shaking as the heat finally broke, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

Wonwoo followed shortly after, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he came. The feeling of his warmth filling you made your body relax completely, the last remnants of your heat fading away.

He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His hand came up to stroke your ear gently, his touch soothing as you leaned into him.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah... I feel so much better now. Thank you, Wonwoo."

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always take care of you, bun."

Wonwoo's arms stayed wrapped around your waist as you sat perched on his lap, your legs straddling him. His forehead rested lightly against yours, and he let out a soft hum, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your lower back. You were still catching your breath, your body trembling slightly, but the closeness between you was soothing.

"You're adorable," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss, as if testing the waters.

Your hands slid up his chest instinctively, clutching at his hoodie for balance. "Says the guy who just—" you paused, cheeks warming, "—made me feel things I didn't think were possible."

Wonwoo smirked faintly, his hands resting on your hips. "Well, I guess we both learned something new today," he teased, leaning in to capture your lips again.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring the taste of you. His hand wandered to the small of your back, holding you securely in place as you pressed your body closer to his. The warmth between you both was intoxicating, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—only the two of you tangled together on the couch.

You broke the kiss, panting softly, your forehead resting against his. "Wonwoo..." you whispered, voice shy yet yearning.

His eyes searched yours, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. "What is it, bun?"

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. "I feel... safe with you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart swelled at your words, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, gentle and reassuring. "You'll always be safe with me," he said firmly, his hand stroking your ear affectionately, earning a soft whimper from you.

As the heat of the moment lingered, Wonwoo shifted slightly, careful not to move too much and overwhelm your still-sensitive body. The weight of the intimacy between you felt heavy but comforting, like a quiet promise unspoken.

"You're really something, y'know," he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You let out a quiet giggle, your cheeks flushing. "And you're not so bad yourself," you teased, nuzzling against him, your ears twitching slightly from the affectionate strokes of his fingers.

He let out a quiet laugh, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Guess we make a good pair then."

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing soft kisses and whispered words. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced with a warm, unspoken connection that neither of you wanted to let go of.

Wonwoo let out a soft groan, his hands firmly gripping your hips as you shifted slightly on his lap. The motion sent a jolt through both of you, and you gasped, your body still sensitive from earlier. His length was still buried deep inside you, and the intimate connection left your cheeks flushed and your heartbeat erratic.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and strained, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek. "I'm trying to take it slow, but you're making it hard."

You bit your lip, your hands braced on his shoulders for balance. "I-I wasn't trying to do anything," you whispered, your voice shy yet laced with a tinge of mischief.

He smirked at your flustered state, his hands sliding up to your waist to hold you steady. "Sure you weren't," he teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips.

Your ears twitched slightly at the sensation, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper, your body instinctively clenching around him. The reaction drew a deep groan from Wonwoo, his grip on you tightening as his self-control teetered on the edge.

"You're going to drive me insane," he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours.

You giggled softly, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I like seeing you like this," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo's eyes darkened slightly at your words, a playful smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock challenge.

Before you could respond, he shifted his hips slightly, the movement sending a spark of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your breath hitched.

"W-Wonwoo!" you stammered, your cheeks burning.

He chuckled softly, his hands guiding your hips to keep you steady. "Relax, bun," he said gently, his tone soothing yet teasing. "I've got you."

The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made your heart flutter. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, your body instinctively responding to his touch. The warmth between you was overwhelming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

As the two of you stayed locked in each other's embrace, the world outside faded away. It was just you and Wonwoo, connected in a way that felt deeper than words could ever describe.

Wonwoo's hands slowly roamed up your back as you remained seated in his lap, the warmth between your bodies making you feel like you were melting into him. His lips brushed against yours in a slow, lazy kiss, and the intimacy of the moment made your ears twitch slightly.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your hip.

You nodded, nuzzling into his neck, but your body betrayed you. The heat still lingered, subtle but growing again, your sensitivity making you squirm slightly. Wonwoo's hands tightened their hold on you, sensing your restlessness.

"Still not enough, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with understanding.

"I-It's not..." you trailed off, too embarrassed to finish your sentence, but he tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle, reassuring gaze.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, his lips brushing yours softly before his hands gripped your hips. With a slow movement, he adjusted your position, and the subtle shift made you moan quietly.

Wonwoo leaned back on the couch, guiding you to move at your own pace, letting you take control. You slowly lifted yourself before sliding back down, and the stretch had both of you exhaling in unison. The intimacy of it—the closeness—made your chest tighten with an overwhelming mix of emotions.

You began moving with his help, finding a rhythm that had you both panting softly. The warmth of his hands on your waist, his whispered words of encouragement, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered made your heart race.

"Wonwoo..." you moaned softly, your hands braced on his chest as you moved.

"You're doing so good," he praised, his voice strained but tender. His hands guided your movements, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes as he watched you lose yourself to the moment.

The pace gradually increased, your movements becoming more desperate as the pleasure built higher and higher. Wonwoo met you with soft thrusts, his control evident in the way he moved to match your rhythm perfectly.

When you finally reached your peak, your body trembled in his arms, and he held you close, whispering soothing words as you rode out your release. He wasn't far behind, his grip tightening as he followed you over the edge, his groan muffled against your shoulder.

You both stilled, panting heavily, and Wonwoo's arms wrapped around you to pull you into his chest. The weight of exhaustion mixed with relief settled over you, and you nuzzled into him, feeling safe and cherished.

"I think you're trying to kill me," Wonwoo joked softly, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

You giggled, your ears twitching slightly as you leaned into him. "Sorry," you mumbled, though your tone was anything but apologetic.

He chuckled, his hands gently stroking your back. "Don't be. Just... don't move for a while. Let's stay like this," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

And for a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the heat of the moment faded, the reality of your situation began creeping back in. The two of you had crossed a line, one that could never be undone.

Still, you stayed curled up in Wonwoo's arms, savoring the peace before the world outside the walls of his apartment could interfere once more.

The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming your skin as you stirred awake. You blinked sleepily, the ache of last night still lingering in your body. The weight of his arm around your waist was grounding, protective. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire him. His face looked softer in the morning light, his sharp features relaxed into something impossibly gentle.

Your bunny ears twitched as his grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer even in his sleep. It was... cozy. Too cozy. You weren't used to this—waking up somewhere that felt safe. You almost didn't want to move, afraid that it would shatter whatever fragile bubble the two of you had formed.

But the warmth between your legs made you squirm slightly, a reminder of everything that had happened the night before. Your face flushed at the memory. You'd never been cared for like that—never had someone look at you like you were more than just... something to use. And yet, there he was, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Your ears perked up when you felt him stir. His hand flexed on your waist before his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hazy, still heavy with sleep, but it softened immediately when he saw you.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice deep and gravelly.

You nodded shyly. "Good morning."

His thumb traced lazy circles on your skin, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks again. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"I'm okay," you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. "A little... sore, maybe."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, no! It's not that. I'm just... not used to it. To... someone being gentle."

He didn't respond immediately, but the way his hand tightened on your waist said enough. "You deserve gentle," he said quietly, his tone firm like he wanted to make sure you believed him.

Your chest tightened at his words, and you looked away, unsure of how to respond. This was all so new—too new. And yet, you didn't want it to stop.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Wonwoo sighed, reluctantly letting go of you to grab it. His eyes scanned the screen, and you saw his expression shift slightly—his jaw tightening.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your ears drooping slightly at the sudden tension.

He hesitated for a moment before setting the phone back down. "Nothing," he said, though his tone betrayed him. "Just... work stuff."

You tilted your head, unconvinced, but you didn't push. Instead, you sat up, pulling the blanket around you. "Do you have to go?"

"No," he said quickly, sitting up to meet your eyes. "I'm staying right here."

His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The look in his eyes was steady, reassuring. But you couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was on his phone wasn't just "work stuff."

Still, you smiled softly, letting yourself believe him for now. "Okay."

"Why don't we get some breakfast?" he suggested, his tone lighter now. "I'm sure you're starving."

You nodded, your stomach rumbling at the thought of food. As the two of you got up and started moving around the apartment, you couldn't help but wonder—what exactly was he hiding? And how long would this little bubble of safety last before reality came crashing in?

Wonwoo's lips brushed against the crown of your head as you curled up in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you. The soft blanket he had draped over your shoulders kept you warm, but it was his steady heartbeat under your ear that gave you real comfort.

"You're awfully quiet now," he murmured, his hand absentmindedly stroking between your bunny ears, earning a soft hum from you. "Is something on your mind?"

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression was gentle, almost serene, but his dark eyes held an intensity that made you feel bare yet safe all at once.

"It's just... I don't know how to say it," you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Try me," he coaxed, his fingers shifting to lightly pinch your ear, a smirk tugging at his lips when you squeaked.

You hesitated, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. "I... don't think I've ever felt this safe before. Like... you actually see me as me. Not just some... hybrid with—"

Wonwoo silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to melt away your worries. "You're not just anything, Y/N," he said quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. "You're you. That's what matters."

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Wonwoo," you whispered.

"For what?"

"For being... this," you said, leaning back just enough to gesture at him, though you didn't really have the words to explain.

His lips quirked up in that understated smile of his, the one that made your stomach flip. "I guess you're welcome, then."

The moment felt too perfect to break, but your stomach had other plans, growling loudly enough to make you both pause.

Wonwoo chuckled, his chest rumbling against you. "Hungry?"

"...Maybe," you mumbled, your ears drooping slightly in embarrassment.

"Well, let's fix that." He shifted, preparing to stand up with you still in his arms.

"Wait! I can walk!"

He raised an eyebrow. "And miss the chance to carry my cute bunny to the kitchen? Not a chance."

You couldn't fight the grin that spread across your face as he carried you bridal style toward the kitchen, his teasing making your heart feel lighter than it had in years.

After a warm meal that left you feeling full and happy, Wonwoo guided you back to the couch. The evening air had turned cooler, and your soft pajamas were still in his room, far away from where you wanted to be—next to him.

"Here," he said, reaching into the basket of clean laundry he had yet to fold. He pulled out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized black one that smelled distinctly like him, that comforting mix of woodsy cologne and something warm, like coffee.

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. "That's... yours?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, holding it out to you. "You'll be more comfortable in this for now."

"But it'll smell like you."

"And that's a problem because...?" He gave you a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying the slight pout on your lips.

"It's not a problem," you muttered, cheeks warming as you tentatively took the shirt from his hands.

Wonwoo turned away to give you some privacy, though he couldn't help sneaking a quick glance over his shoulder as you slipped into the shirt. It draped over you like a dress, the hem brushing just above your knees, the sleeves far too long for your arms. You tugged at the collar nervously, your bunny ears twitching as the fabric enveloped you in his scent.

"Cute," he said simply, his voice soft but filled with affection.

You froze, your cheeks heating up. "Y-You think so?"

Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands gently landing on your shoulders before he tugged you into a hug. "Of course," he murmured, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You smell sweet, like always. But now..." He took a subtle inhale, his arms tightening slightly around you. "Now you smell like me too. I like it."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer, your head pressing into his chest. "I... like it too," you admitted shyly, your voice muffled against him.

He leaned back just enough to tip your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Good," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You should get used to it."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. "You're so smooth sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Only with you."

The warmth of his shirt enveloped you like a snug cocoon, and with the soft scent of him lingering on the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a little dazed. Wonwoo's shirt was oversized on you, the hem brushing against your thighs as you shifted your weight on the couch. The mix of his scent and the subtle sweetness you naturally carried made the air feel warm and comforting.

He pulled you close again, his large hands gently resting on your waist as he settled back into the cushions. You melted into him effortlessly, his solid chest a perfect pillow. Wonwoo's heartbeat was steady under your cheek, grounding you in the peaceful silence.

"You smell like me now," he murmured, his deep voice low and laced with affection. His lips ghosted against your temple, lingering there in a gentle kiss. "I like it."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your cheeks flushed from his tender words. "That's unfair," you teased, voice soft as you traced a finger along the line of his jaw. "You keep saying things that make me weak."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his lips quirked into that small, crooked smile that made your heart flutter. "Only because it's true. You look perfect like this." His arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you into his lap effortlessly.

You let out a happy sigh, curling up against him, your legs draped over his as he rested his chin atop your head. "I don't think I've ever been this comfortable," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Good," he replied simply, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. The gesture felt as natural as breathing, his thumb idly stroking your knuckles as the two of you relaxed into each other's warmth.

Sleep was tugging at your eyelids now, the day's tension melting away with every gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, your hair, and even your bunny ears. You nuzzled closer, letting out the smallest, most content hum, which made Wonwoo's heart skip a beat.

As your breaths evened out, he couldn't resist murmuring, "I'll keep you safe, always." He didn't know if you were awake enough to hear it, but it didn't matter. The words were true, and they hung in the quiet air like a promise.

His shirt wrapped around you, his scent lingering on your skin, and his strong arms holding you tight—it was a kind of peace you hadn't known existed.

And as the night stretched on, the two of you stayed that way—wrapped in each other, hearts beating in perfect rhythm.

a/n: let's all thank anon for the request, especially if you liked it (hope you did) mwa's